The Bone Interpreter (rewritten and revamped)
by stanleydoodles
Summary: The first in the series (taken down and revamped... sorry guys). The flat of 221C becomes occupied by a woman that not only interests, irks, and draws the attention of the consulting detective who lives above her, but her past draws him into a circle of connections that he may not escape from. Sherlock/OC
1. Chapter 1

**Okay guys, so I apologize to my readers who have already read this story, but after a lot of rereading and debating with myself, i decided to pull the series down and rewrite it. I am going to change some things and edit most things... think of it as what I took down was my first draft, and this is my second. **

**Anyhow, I already feel 2000 times better about this revamped version, and I will get things out a lot quicker as Its already written pretty much, so I really hope you guys enjoy!**

John Watson was sitting in his living room reading the morning paper. He turned the page and gave silent thanks for the silence that was so rare around their flat. He really did enjoy living at 221B Baker Street with his ,now, infamous flat mate, but sitting in the flat with out random gunfire, violin, chemicals burning through their kitchen table, or yelling from a very bored Sherlock was nice not to experience every now and then. A little bit of quiet was good to have; especially when Sherlock was off to God knows where.

John took a bite of his toast when he heard someone coming up the stairs.

"Yoo-hoo!" Said Mrs. Hudson rapping her fingers on the door and greeted John with a warm smile. "Oh John dear. I'm glad you're up. Where's Sherlock?"

"Haven't got the slightest clue?" John replied

"Oh good." She said looking slightly relieved.

John frowned and looked at his lankly with surprise and concern. That certainly wasn't the answer he had been expecting.

"Why? is everything okay?" he asked her before shutting his paper angrily, "Did he steal your knitting for experiments again? I told him not to do that…"

"No!" Mrs. Hudson dismissed before looking at him completely puzzeled, "You know I have been wondering where my knitting had gotten off to… " she frowned before looking back at John sheepishly, "I know, it sounds terrible of me for being relieved that he's gone, isn't it dear?" she said looking sheepishly.

John raised his eyebrows at her. Mrs. Hudson always treated him and Sherlock like sons and had the utmost patience with Sherlock and the craziness that always ensued when he was around.

"I love that boy. Sherlock Holmes is a wonderful man, but I finally fixed up the basement and I have a potential renter coming and I don't want him scaring her off. I want to finally rent that place out after it took me so long to fix it up and all," she admitted as she plopped herself down in the kitchen chair beside John.

John cracked a smile at the landlady and grabbed the older woman's hand, squeezing it, "Mrs. Hudson, I don't blame you one bit."

***(&#*( &(#* )**

Kyleigha huffed to herself and pulled her pea coat tighter around her body as she trotted down the streets London. Her dark auburn hair blew wind as she made her way through the cold and windy afternoon silently wishing to herself that she just would have gotten a cab.

"And I could have had a job in San Diego," she muttered to herself bitterly, biting back her hatred of the cold as she turned the corner onto Baker Street.

She pulled out her phone and checked the address before knocking on the door at 221.

She nervously looked around. New City, new job, new life… this was what this was all about; a brand new start.

A kind looking lady answered the door with a warm smile. "Hello dear! You must be Miss Gibbs."

"Please call me Kylie," she greeted back with a smile, "I'm assuming you're Mrs. Hudson?"

"That's me dear. Well aren't you the prettiest thing!" the lady said looking Kylie up and down.

_Oh God, I hope she doesn't have any sons she wants to set me up with_ Kylie thought to herself as she felt a her cheeks begin to warm as a blush took over her cheeks.

Even though she commonly received comments like this, Kylie considered herself plain looking. She looked like the exact combination of her parents, nothing extravagant. Yet she always seemed to have comments like this follow her everywhere, which usually ended up with sweet older women trying to set her up with their sons, and a LOT of unwanted attention.

_Especially unwanted now…_

"Oh thank you you're too kind." she replied politely putting a stray piece of hair behind her ear nervously.

"No really dear!" Mrs. Hudson paused as if a revelation hit her. "You're a model aren't you? Lord knows you're beautiful enough."

Kylie laughed, the thought striking her funny.

"Trust me, I am the farthest thing from a model." she said before she saw how Mrs. Hudson was about to retort or comment about her beauty once more. "Do you mind if I take a look at the flat?" she said trying to change the topic as quickly as she could.

Mrs. Hudson shut her mouth with a frown and a puzzled look, then slightly shook her head with small smile and said "Of course dear! How rude of me not to even invite you in yet!"

She stepped back to allow her inside the hallway. Kylie stepped in and looked around at the quaint and homey looking living space. There was a narrow hallway lined with blue patterned wallpaper and a set of rickety looking stairs. Usually, she would have looked at the place with interest and unease, but for some reason that she couldn't quite put her finger on, Kylie felt completely at home… almost like she had lived there her entire life.

"Its just right down here, dear," Mrs. Hudson said walking down the hallway a short ways and playing with the lock of 221C. She opened the door and Kylie walked in and looked around.

The walls had just been wallpapered and the flat was small, but delightfully comfortable. Kylie looked around for a few minuets while Mrs. Hudson went around saying things such as, "I know its not much dear" and "Oh look at the state of this, I'll have that fixed up soon."

"I know its small but its…"

"I'll take it Mrs. Hudson," Kylie said suddenly, facing her with a smile.

"Really?" Mrs. Hudson said as she looked at her, slightly taken aback.

"Of course! This flat is adorable and I'm a sucker for a fire place," Kylie stated with a smile.

Mrs. Hudson smiled and clapped her hand together happily, "Wonderful dear! It will be great having another woman around!" she exclaimed as she beckoned her out of 221C and into the land lady's own flat before she looked at her and added, "… and a beautiful one at that."

Kylie blushed once more as Mrs. Hudson beckoned her to sit at the kitchen table as she made tea and began gathering up the paperwork.

"It will be so great having another woman around," she said as Kylie began to flip through the paper work, "Right now it's just me and the boys."

"The boys?" Kylie asked as she signed the paper.

"Oh yes dear, two boys live in 221B." she said with a wave of her hand before a thought crossed her mind, "I should introduce you!" she stated excitedly as she got up once more, "Though I should warn you ones a bit …off."

"Off?"

"Yes, well Sherlock, he's a bit of an eccentric, you know… Johns lovely though. Come on dear let me introduce you." she said grabbing her and pulling her out the door and up the staircase.

"Oh Mrs. Hudson. I don't want to be a bother…"

"Oh nonsense dear! Yoo-hoo." she said rapping on the already open door. Kylie entered the flat and looked around with curiosity.

This was definitely a bachelor flat; messy yet somewhat kept together. There was a skull by the fireplace and two armchairs. A music stand in one corner and a cow skull mounted on the wall wearing headphones. Kylie smiled to herself; someone obviously had a sense of humor.

Upon hearing people enter his flat, and short blond man walked out of the kitchen to see who it was.

"Oh, hello." the man said as he looked at Mrs. Hudson with confusion and wondering when his land lady had taken up bringing strange, yet beautiful women into his flat.

"John, this is your new neighbor and my newest tenant." Mrs. Hudson said with excitement.

John looked at her for a moment before it all clicked.

"Oh, right! 221C!" he said as he walked forward, smiling at her before he extended his hand, "John Watson. Lovely to meet you."

"Kylie Gibbs," Kylie greeted as she took his hand, shaking it firmly, smiling at his return shake.

_Shake of a solider…. firm and commanding. _

"Lovely to meet you too," she continued.

"You're American?" John said upon hearing her accent. "You been in Britain long?"

"Only arrived yesterday, " she lied for some unknown reason, "I just got a job at…"

Kylie was cut off by someone bounding up the stairs and barging into the flat behind her. Upon seeing Mrs. Hudson eyes go wide and John stop and stare before rolling his eyes, she turned and saw something that made her heart stop.

A tall thin man with dark hair and stunning eyes was standing behind her. But that wasn't what made her heart stop. No, that was due to the fact that he was covered in blood and holding a harpoon as waltzed into the flat like it was normal occurrence, not even taking a moment to notice others in the flat.

"John I need a new case. PLEASE tell me we have a new case!" the man ranted manically as he took off his jacket and began tossing the harpoon side to side in boredom.

Kylie stood there in a slight shock at the man, a million thoughts forming in her mind. She only had a brief moment of consciousness before she realized that she wasn't going to be able to stop the words from flowing out of her mouth.

"I'm sorry is that human?"

The man looked at her, his light blue eyes piercing through her with his analytical stare that sent a shiver through her body.

The million thoughts that she had had turned into one…

_Oh God, I just signed a lease with a serial killer._


	2. Chapter 2

"I'm sorry is that human?" said a voice that was definitely not John's.

Sherlock heard the unfamiliar voice and whipped his head around to look at the intruder.

Standing next to Mrs. Hudson and John was a young woman. Probably about 27 years old. Sherlock looked her up and down trying to analyze her as she gazed at him initially with shock, but upon seeing his face contort into utter confusion with her presence, smirked and raised an eyebrow at him. Her bright blue eyes now sparkling.

She was tall and athletic.

_Five foot ten._

_Runner? _He couldn't tell…

She was in very good shape. She cares about her body and fitness. Either that or it was stress relief.

_Woman, her age and stature… statistically has to be obsessive over looks. Not that she needed to be…_

She was pretty. Very pretty, which irked him. He never really noticed beauty, but for some reason he couldn't take his eyes off this woman. Her long Auburn hair hung in loose, natural curls around her face. Her hands weren't callused (as far as he could see from where he was currently standing).

_Doesn't work with her hands…_

_Extremely good posture._

_Tall._

_In good physical shape._

_Aesthetically pleasing to the eye._

Sherlock thought to himself as his eyes fell to her boots, as he smiled.

_Leather. High heeled, well worn. In this weather? Walks in heels often…_

_Career = Model._

Definitely a model.

Sherlock smiled to himself as he remembered her accent.

A_ model from America. _

_Major metropolitan city. She would have to work where fashion was. _

_Statistically, New York is the best bet._

_Yes, New York._

"No, its from a pig." he replied comfortably now that he had figured her out. His words seemed to make the woman smirk at him even more.

"Experiment" he supplied.

"Did you ride the tube like that?" John asked remembering an earlier text his flatmate had sent him.

"Had to," he said with a slight bitterness, "None of the cabs would pick me up."

The man set down his harpoon and turned his attention the young woman in front of him.

"Sherlock!" Mrs. Hudson said in a scolding tone. "You're making a mess! Why don't you go clean…"

"You," Sherlock said, completely ignoring Mrs. Hudson. "Just moved here."

"Yes," Kylie said slightly confused and taken aback. "I just signed the paperwork for the flat down stairs. I'm apparently your new neighbor."

"Sherlock don't analyze her." John pleaded with the man and Kylie raised an eyebrow at him. "She's going to be our neighbor."

"Analyze me?" Kylie said looking back at the dark haired man.

"Wouldnt you want to know if she had a history of meth use, or a _business _ of ferrets?"

"I have neither of those…" the woman began to argue.

"I know you don't, I was just stating a hypothetical situation," Sherlock replied as he looked at his flatmate.

"You already have analyzed her, obviously," John argued, "You don't need to be a drama queen and show off to the rest of the class!"

Sherlock frowned, "I don't show off."

"Yeah," John said nodding as he tried to hold in his anger, "yeah, you do."

"I'm sorry, analyze?" Kylie piped in.

"It's a party trick," John stated immediately

"Its not a party trick," Sherlock bit back.

"Yeah… that gives me answers," Kylie responded.

"It's a thing he does by looking at you he can tell your life story." John said sighing to himself as he looked at his newest neighbor, seeing the intrigue on her face, and knowing what was about to come next.

…_This was not going to go well_.

"Oh really?" Kylie said as she turned towards the detective, taking a few steps closer to him, her eyes sparkling with intrigue. "What do you think my life story is?"

"You work as a model. You just moved here from New York. Hence your…" he paused for a second to think of what to say, "…appearance."

John gave him a look. Where in the hell did that come from?

"You are decent at what you do, but not good enough to be on top which is most likely due to your lack of confidence in your appearance," he continued.

_Which I don't know why._ Sherlock found himself thinking before he mentally slapped himself and threw his mind back into the deduction once more.

He looked her over once more, his eyes trying to take in what they had missed before.

"The real reason you came to London though is to get away from something. Someone or something that nearly destroyed you," he continued as he noticed her react. He saw Kylie look down and saw the hurt in her eyes before he caught the wedding ring on a chain around her neck and pony-bead bracelet that she wore around her wrist.

"You were married with a daughter. Both of them died, recently. You feel guilty it wasn't you and you ran away from the memory," he said as he walked away, satisfied.

The room was silent before he turned back to see a solum looking Mrs. Hudson, an angry John, and Kylie fiddling with the bracelet and necklace.

She looked up after a moment and gave him a small smile, "well…that was…..Interesting," she told him in a quiet voice.

"Kylie, I'm sorry he didn't mean to be a complete ass." John said hoping his flat mate didn't completely mess up the relationship with their new neighbor.

"No, I asked him to."

"That's extremely rational." Sherlock said surprised she wasn't upset with him. Most people become suddenly upset with him when he analyzes them, but for some reason this girl did not feel the need to hold it against him.

"I'm a rational person." Kylie said with a small smile and a shrug. "Well I have some furniture to buy. I'd better be off. I'll see you guys around. Thank you again Mrs. Hudson. I'll be in touch."

And with that, Kylie descended the stairs and left 221B.

The room was in a heavy and tense silence as they heard the door to the street shut quietly.

Sherlock looked between Mrs. Hudson and John who were both staring at him with disappointment.

He looked between them with confusion.

"What?'

"Really?" John said angrily, "You can't control yourself for 5 minutes to be nice to the new girl?"

"She asked me. What'd I do?" Sherlock asked confused.

John stared at him a moment and before he looked at Mrs. Hudson with frustration and laughed as he shook his head in despair and threw up his hands "Forget it." he said walking out of the room.

Sherlock and Mrs. Hudson watched him go before the land lady looked at him.

"Really Sherlock, you could have been nicer to that poor girl. She really is a lovely young woman." Mrs. Hudson said walking out of the flat and down the stairs. "Also dear, will you clean yourself up a bit? You'll get blood on the curtains."

Sherlock looked down at his blood-covered hand and sighed to himself.

_ I really need a case._

He took one last look at his harpoon in the corner before heading off to the bathroom for a much needed shower.


	3. Chapter 3

Detective Inspector Lestrade sighed to himself as he looked at the human remains in front of him.

The body on his latest crime scene looked as if it had been burned to a crisp. Most likely to cover up the evidence in the very alleyway it was found… and it had worked, unfortunately. That's all the evidence they had; the skeletal remains, a little bit of unscathed flesh, a lot of burnt flesh and the ashes of the clothes the person was wearing. The smell alone was horrendous, but the long night he saw ahead of him and the headache he knew he was going to get from the man he was about to call, was a new torture he had not wanted to experience today. He sighed once more as he finished his coffee, yearning for another with a shot of whiskey in it, before he reached for his phone.

"Oh bloody hell. You're not calling him are you?" Anderson said as he looked up at the DI as he bagged some of the ash he had been collecting from around the body.

"I have too. What other choice do I have" Lestrade replied as he dialed the all-too-familiar number.

***&#*( & ( **

Sherlock waltz onto the crime scene with an excitement in the air, towing a not quite as enthused John close behind him.

"Hello Freak." Sergeant Donovan spat out as Sherlock and John crossed the tape into the alley.

"Sally." Sherlock droned as he made his way towards Lestrade and the body.

"You come to see your work first hand?" she quipped at him.

"No, I just came to see how you and Anderson are doing. You did spend the night at his place again didn't you. You used his shampoo." Sherlock stopped and turned towards her taking a sniff in her general direction. "Showered this morning. Have you two gotten caught by his wife yet?" he asked with a smug smile on his face, glancing back at her before he kept walking, leaving Sergeant Donovan utterly speechless as he continued the short distance towards the body, which he noticed, was not quite a body.

The body they saw before them was a mangled mess of bone and burnt flesh. The smell alone was enough to make a man sick, but the sight was another story. The body was twisted and gruesome just as if someone had tortured the person before lighting them on fire and leaving them to die.

"Bloody Hell," John muttered as they pair approached the body.

"Quite literally on this one," Lestrade said hanging up the phone. "All of the evidence has been burned. Anderson can't find a single damn thing out of this mess."

"Anderson can't find his way out of a shoe box let alone anything from a crime scene," Sherlock snapped taking out his magnifying glass and looking at the body.

"I'm right here you know." Anderson said walking up from behind them. "And trust me you arrogant sod, there's nothing here."

Sherlock scoffed, "There's always something you miss, Anderson."

"Sherlock," John chastized, "Want to figure it out and take us through it instead of taunting everyone here?"

"He started it," Sherlock muttered, causing Anderson to gape and throw up his hands in frustration.

Sherlock looked for a few more minuets before shutting his magnifying glass and standing up to face Lestrade "Have you identified the body at all?"

"No, No a bloody clue where to even start," Lestrade said shaking his head. "We don't know sex, race, anything."

"Well," Sherlock said after gazing back at the body for a second more. "The only thing that I can get is that our victim is female until I get her back to Bart's."

"How could you possibly tell that?" Anderson spat angrily.

"Honestly Anderson did you even go to Uni?" Sherlock asked as he shut his eyes in frustration before looking back at him, "The spread of the ilium in her pelvic girdle is much more flare. If the body were male, the pelvis would be much narrower. "

"That's all you got though?" Lestrade asked. "Usually you have the victims whole life story just by this glance."

Sherlock glowered as he was not pleased by this shot at his reputation, "Well, usually I have flesh, clothes, and overall appearance to make judgments off of. It is impossible to get more than the sex of a person from their skeleton."

"Oh, I wouldn't say that," a strange voice said from behind.

Sherlock turned to see the auburn haired girl from the night before standing behind him. The woman wore a pair of tight jeans, stylish boots and a pea coat with a smirk plastered on her face.

"Kylie?" John asked in shock.

"Excuse me! Who the hell are you?" Sergeant Donovan said coming up from behind her.

"Hello John. Sherlock, " Kylie said nodding to each of the men as she smirked even more and walked forward, turning her attention to the DI. "And you must be Detective Inspector Lestrade," Kylie said extending her hand towards him, completely ignoring the Sergeant behind her.

"Yes and you are?" Lestrade asked confused as ever.

"She's a model," Sherlock said immediately before Kylie could even open her mouth, "She has completely no expertise of use for this scene and she doesn't belong here," he said turning his attention back to the body and acted like no one else was there.

The woman raised an eyebrow at him before turning back to Lestrade.

"I'm Kylie Gibbs. I'm your new forensic anthropologist." Kylie stated with a smile before turning back to Sherlock and adding "I'm _far_ from a model. "

Sherlock's head snapped up so quick, Kylie thought he may have given himself whiplash.

"What?" Sherlock said looking her up and down once more.

Forensic anthropologist? How on earth could he have missed that?

"Oh Dr. Gibbs!" Lestrade said as the name clicked, "We weren't expecting you until next week! I'm so glad you are here. Would you mind?" Lestrade motioned to the body in question.

"Of course." Kylie said while donning gloves out of her pocket, nudging Sherlock to the side, "Excuse me," she grinned at him smugly, causing him to stare at her in shock as he was forced to step backwards.

John stifled a laugh as Sherlock was nearly blown away by the woman's forward nature.

She knelt down and began examining the body, causing Sherlock to roll his eyes dramatically as she took in the body.

"The victim was indeed female. White. Caucasian, mid-forties. Has 2, no three children." Kylie said as she squatted down to closer examine the remains. "Two natural births and one caesarian. She's an active woman. She was a college athlete of sorts, but she mostly runs now. Probably marathons. She also commonly plays tennis. My best bet to ID this woman would be to check the local tennis clubs for anyone whose gone missing."

Kylie stood up and removed her gloves before she turned around to see everyone, even Sherlock looking at her with their jaws slacked.

She looked at the group with a raised eyebrow and shifted awkwardly in the silence.

It was silent until Anderson spoke up.

"How in God's name did you get that?"

"Simple really," she stated with a smile, rubbing it in to Sherlock as much as she could, "Like Sherlock already told you, the spay of the ilium tells you the sex of the person. The ilium is substantially spayed and the arch of the pubis symphysis has been rounded out much more than for just one natural birth, hence two natural births. You are still able to see the bone repair on the pubic ramus, which is typical of a standard caesarean section in which the Dr. nicks the pubis. She has microfractures all the way up both of her tibias signaling that she had chronic shin splints and most likely kept running through it which is shown by the new bone that the osteocytes laid over it contain microfractures. Running through that kind of pain took determination and a will to finish what she started, a frame of mind usually shown in college athletes. The chronic and severe tendonitis shown in her tendon by the amount of scar tissue built up in her right elbow, but none in her left tells us that she plays tennis. Often."

The group was once again silent.

"That was amazing," John said in shock as he laughed slightly, "Absolutely amazing."

She blushed slightly at his praise.

"My God. Its another Sherlock." Lestrade said to himself quietly then smiled at the woman. "They said you were good Dr. Gibbs, but no one said this good. I'll put a call out to all the tennis clubs." he told her as he pulled out his phone, punching numbers in and walking away, "We'll be in touch Doctor!"

Kylie turned and walked to where Sherlock (who had been extremely quiet since she had announced her career) and John were standing.

"Why don't you boys come over for dinner tonight. I'd love to discuss the case with you," she said politely.

John opened his mouth to respond, but before he could Sherlock quietly asked, "What else did I get wrong?"

"Excuse me?" Kylie asked, obviously not expecting that response.

"When I analyzed you, what else did I get wrong?" Sherlock said growing increasingly frustrated.

"Oh." Kylie said surprised and then replied with a smile, "Everything."

John grinned and surprisingly, so did Sherlock. He was beginning to like this woman. She was interesting.

She gave them one last smile and a wink before walking away and waving.

"Hope to see you boys at dinner!" she called over her shoulder.

Sherlock and John watched her walk away. John laughed to himself about how much the woman was like his friend before he saw Sherlock smiling at her retreating form out of the corner of his eye.

He smiled even more.

_My God, he fancies her…._

He was completely wrong, was proved wrong, made a compete fool of, and yet he was still smiling.

"You fancy her don't you?" John said to his friend, savoring every moment of torturing him.

John's words seem to snap Sherlock out of his trance. "What? Of course not, " he said defiantly, wiping the smile off of his face and looking at her peculiarly "She's …interesting…"

"Then how come you're blushing?" John said with a grin, "Have you even ever fancied anyone before?"

"Oh shut up." Sherlock snapped before he stalked off to find a cab.

John laughed.

_Oh, he was going to have fun with this. _


	4. Chapter 4

Kylie's iPod blasted from her speakers as she sang to herself, slightly dancing around 221C as she set up her new home. Despite the fact that she had pretty much bought everything in her new place, as when she had left she had crammed as much as she could into only a few suitcases before leaving as quickly as she could, it was beginning to feel like home.

She had wanted to get out as quickly as she could, and habitually she grabbed photos and personal items rather than what she probably needed more to set up her new home. She was just thankful for the amount of money that she had saved since graduating; it had made affording some acceptable furniture and the necessities a lot easier.

She sighed and ran a hand through her hair.

_Put the past behind you. New home. New start. New life. _

It was over, that's what mattered. She just had to fake that everything was okay until it actually was. And with starting her new job earlier than planned, that may be easier than she was expecting it to be.

Kylie smiled to herself and hummed along to the song as she dusted off a picture of her and father at her college graduation. She hated lying to him and being this far away. They had grown nearly inseparable since he had retired from active duty in the marines. He had taught her nearly everything she knew and was her own personal hero. Hell, in college she had refused to go any farther than Virginia so that she could visit him as she pleased.

She placed the picture lovingly on the small living room bookshelf as she heard the timer on the oven beep at her, drawing her attention away from the task at hand.

She made her way over to the oven to check on the meal, pulling the chicken and vegetables out of the oven to check on the meal.

Kylie sighed once more and put the meal back in the oven before she wandered back over to the small coffee table that held the photos of her life.

She felt herself smile as she pulled out photos of her small, makeshift family she had formed over the years before she stumbled across a few photos of a tall handsome man holding her, smiling as he held her close to him.

Kylie froze as she stared at the photo; fear and anxiety took over her body. She hadn't sorted through the photos yet. She had just grabbed it and ran, forgetting what was even in it.

She slowly pulled the photos out of the album with a shaking hand, gazing at her own smiling face.

_She had been so unbelievably happy…_

She shut her eyes

_Past… thats your past. You have to hold your head high and move on._

Kylie nervously got up, pulling out the specific photos and wandering over to the fire place. She shut her eyes before she gazed at the photos once more.

_Past… put it behind you. You don't have a choice anymore._

She tossed the photos into the flickering flames, watching the smiling faces become distorted as the pictures burned; destroying evidence of her past… her history…

Knock knock knock

Knuckles rapped on the doorframe, bringing her out of her thoughts.

She turned around to see John and Sherlock standing in her doorway.

Kylie stared at them in slight shock for a moment before she quickly covered up with a smile.

"oh, hey guys," she greeted as she wiped her eyes subtly to ensure she didn't have any tears in her eyes, "I wasn't sure if you guys would even come."

She quickly walked forward and closed the photo album before the consulting detective's prying eyes could take it in.

"This a bad time?" John asked noticing her behavior.

"Uh, no!" Kylie said with a smile as she picked up the album holding it to her chest firmly, "Make yourselves comfortable! I'm just going to go clean up a bit and dinner is just about ready."

Sherlock narrowed his eyes at her, trying to figure her out as she scampered back into the bedroom with the album.

**&^*( &#( ***

Kylie threw the album on the bed and walked into her small bathroom, resting her hands on the sink before looking at herself in the mirror.

She didn't look good. Her hair was a bit crazy as she had ran her hand through it many many times that day. Her father's old sweat shirt and her yoga pants didn't help to accent her athletic frame.

_You just have to get through this. _

"Its over. Put a smile on your face, make new friends, start over," she told her reflection, "You can do this."

She stood up tall and took a breath.

"You can do this," she told herself once more before placing a smile back on her face and wandering back out into the living room.

"I apologize for the mess," she said as she rounded the corner, "I've spent nearly all day trying to get this place into a home…"

She stopped in her tracks as she looked up to see Sherlock bent over and sorting through the pictures on her bookshelf, obviously snooping, as John sat on the couch with his head in his hands.

Sherlock straightened and looked at her as if nothing had happened as she just raised an eyebrow at him.

"So… you guys want dinner?" she asked, not really knowing what to say.

"Yes, I would love some," John said as he looked up at her and smiled, thankful that she wasn't making a big deal about catching Sherlock snooping through her personal items.

Kylie smiled at John as she made her way to the oven, pulling out the food and beginning to dish up the meal onto plates.

"Sherlock do you want some?" she asked as she turned back to see him slyly trying to open up a closet door and John silently trying to get him to stop, "Or would you just like to snoop through my underwear drawer?"

"I don't eat while on cases," he said as he looked at her and continued making his way through the flat, "Digestion slows my thinking." He paused as he looked around, "Though if you were to grant me access, I wouldn't be opposed to it."

"Wait, WHAT?" John gaped at his friend.

Sherlock looked at him, not realizing the implications of what he had said, before it clicked and shifted awkwardly before he caught Kylie smiling at him in amusement.

He just cleared his throat and turned back to snooping, "You know what I meant."

Kylie smiled and handed John his plate, as he took it gratefully.

"Smells amazing Kylie," he said as dug him, Kylie taking a seat on the couch across from him.

"Thanks. Family recipe," she smiled at him as she turned and looked back at Sherlock who was now studying her mantle piece.

"Oh!" John said in the middle of a bite, putting the file he had next to him on the table, "Lestrade gave us the case file for you to look over."

Kylie took a bite of her food as she pulled the file towards her, trying to ignore Sherlock was slowly moving down the hall towards her bedroom and bathroom.

"Stay out of my room Sherlock," Kylie said loudly as she read through the file.

She sensed him stopping in his tracks and looking back at her. Kylie glanced up from the file to see John smiling at his friend in a smart alec fashion from across the room.

Kylie grinned before returning her attention to the file.

There was nothing really note worthy in the file other than the fact that they had identified the victim as Patricia "Patty" Mayberry.

"You were right." John said referring to the case file. "Lestrade was able to track her down based on the tennis club theory. The victim belonged to Holland Park Lawn tennis club. "

"Is it exclusive?" Kylie asked as she casually took a bite of her dinner, "My bet is she's a trophy wife."

Sherlock stopped analyzing to turn and look at her while John looked up, a little shocked.

"Yeah," John said slowly looking at Kylie confused, "Yeah, its one of the most exclusive clubs there is. Only the wealthiest in London can afford to belong there."

"Hmm." Kylie said never looking up from the file.

John looked at Sherlock before looking back at Kylie in amazement.

"How did you figure she's a trophy wife?" John asked, "We only just figured that out."

"You just figured that out." Sherlock stated never taking his eyes off Kylie.

Kylie shrugged as she swallowed her bite and leaned back on the couch,

"Extremely fit woman, body burned, tennis player? That most likely tells us that she has nothing better to do than workout. She obviously wasn't a cop or had a physical job. If she was a cop, she'd have many more injuries than the ones I saw from her remains, and her job wasn't physical because, lets be real… who do you know who belongs to a tennis club and has a blue-collar job?" Kylie paused to take a drink of water. "Plus, with the body being burned indicates a crime of passion."

John paused and looked at her taken aback for a moment.

"The killer could have been trying to destroy the evidence. I mean we did find practically nothing at the crime scene," he argued.

"True, but the fact that the crime scene was s clean tells us that the killer probably had help. The kind that you pay for to cover things up. Plus in the top 15% of wealth, the most common crime is a crime of passion. I mean who has the clarity to calmly kill someone in the middle of the street without anyone seeing as well as having sense to burn the body and leave without anyone noticing, other than a man for hire and instructed to do so?"

John's mouth was slack, his fork held halfway up to his mouth. Sure, he was used to this kind of thing from Sherlock… but, he never thought he'd see the day where there were two Sherlock's.

Sherlock on the other hand, was pleased with woman as he fought a smirk on his face. She had figured out almost…almost…. everything he had already deduced. She was good, very good; but he was still better. He had been wrong about her at first and that was…well, how could he put it? … Blatantly stupid. He still did not understand how his deductions could have been so wrong.

"Did you guys find anything else?" Kylie asked.

"The husband is Edmund Mayberry," Sherlock stated as he began looking around once more.

"The owner of Mayberry pharmaceuticals?" Kylie asked as she turned to look at him.

"You've heard of them?" John asked somewhat surprised.

"Yeah," Kylie said picking her plate back up and walking it over to the sink, "They're one of the largest pharmaceutical companies in the world."

"Yes," Sherlock said as he poked his head down the hall trying to glance into her bedroom as her back was turned, "Lately, he's been appearing on TV his clothing has been baggy and he has been wearing makeup under his eyes to hide the fact that he has not been sleeping."

"You think he's ill?" Kylie asked as she turned around, barely missing Sherlock snooping again.

"No, he's hiding something," he stated as he walked past the kitchen, grabbing a green bean out of the pan and popping it in his mouth.

"You think he did it?"

"No, but I think that what he is hiding has something to do with her death."

"Great, so lets go talk to him." Kylie said a sparkling appearing in her eye once more.

"We tried," John interjected as he finished his meal, "It turns out having a very expensive lawyer and high levels of security pays off."

"Great." Kylie said sarcastically, "So, how do we talk to him?"

"Lestrade's getting a warrant," Sherlock said as he took to looking at the bookshelf once more, "We should be able to talk to him tomorrow."

"Good," Kylie said as she sat back down on the couch.

There was a comfortable pause for a second before Sherlock turned around and stared at Kylie intently, causing her to raise an eyebrow at him.

"What was I wrong about?" Sherlock asked her.

She smiled at him slightly, "I'm sorry?"

"My deduction." Sherlock said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "What was I wrong about?"

"Oh, that," Kylie said with a smile, "I'm sorry, I didn't know which time you meant."

Sherlock glowered at her, which caused her to smile even more.

"Oh, I don't know, you seem fairly certain about yourself now. You have my whole flat to analyze. You tell me," she smiled at him.

Sherlock couldn't help but smirk. Despite the shot at his reputation, he liked how this girl worked.

"I was wrong about your career. I was also wrong about where you lived before you came to London."

Kylie gave him a slight smile. "Where did I come from then?"

"Washington D.C."

"Very good Mr. Holmes." Kylie said leaning forward slightly after folding her legs beneath her on the couch. "What else?"

"You and your father are also close, very close. He's a military man. Not high ranking, but known for his courage and valor. You look up to him. Most likely tried to follow in his footsteps. My guess, he now works as a cop or detective after he retired from the service. That's how you became interested in forensics and forensic anthropology."

"Correct on all fronts. He works for the NCIS."

"NCIS?" John asked.

"Naval Criminal Investigative Service," Kylie informed him. "They investigate all crimes associated with the Navy and their families."

"I was also wrong abut why you left." Sherlock said never taking his eyes off of Kylie.

Kylie looked at him, a smile no longer on her face.

"Sherlock," John said warningly, sensing where this was heading.

"It wasn't your husband and daughter who were killed, it was your mother and sister. You wear your mother's wedding ring around your neck and a bracelet your sister made you around your wrist. They were killed, a while ago by seeing how the ring around your neck hasn't been worn in a while, yet you still feel responsible for their death."

Kylie looked down and tried to keep her emotions under control. He'd nailed it right on the head… what'd she expect though?

"Ah. But that's not why you left the States," Sherlock said continuing his analysis as he walked forward, "No, you left for another reason. Old boyfriend?"

Kylie kept staring at him. Her pulse quickened as she shrunk back into her self slightly, trying desperately to hide her discomfort and stay strong.

"He hurt you," Sherlock said quietly, slowly coming over to where Kylie sat and sitting down on the couch next to her, never breaking eye contact as he kept reading her body language, figuring out what had happened. "He hurt you badly. Both physically and emotionally."

Kylie felt a tear fall off of her chin and land on her hand that was resting in her lap. She didn't even realize that she was crying, but she was cracking as he read her. He was reading her like a book, and she didn't need that right now. Every bone in her body was telling her to run, run as fast as she could before he could say anymore. She didn't need her past coming up and really did not want to drag him into her wormhole of a past. But she knew she couldn't. She had to stay here. She had egged him on and she just needed to hide it.

"Right on all accounts," she said quietly as she gave him a small smile.

John sat watching the scene play out with amazement as he looked between the unblinking stare that his flatmate was giving the woman's flat that they were in. He had never seen Sherlock act this….this…human towards anyone he had met this recently. He actually looked like he felt empathy towards the woman, instead of rubbing his deduction blindly in her face before leaving in a cloud of smugness. Not to mention, John could have sworn he saw Sherlock's hand move up to wipe a tear from her eye before he realized what he was doing and brought it quickly back down. He had, in all the time he'd known his friend, he'd never seen him act this way.

Oh, he definitely fancies her.

John cleared his throat, breaking the trance Kylie and Sherlock had been in, causing them to both look at him in shock.

"Well, it's getting late," Kylie said trying to cover up her emotions and wiping her eyes quickly.

"Right," Sherlock said awkwardly as he stared at the floor for a moment before he suddenly stood up from the couch and walking out of the flat without another word.

Kylie and John just watched the man walk out of the flat.

John sighed as he stared at where his flatmate had been a moment ago.

"Right."

_ Couldn't Sherlock behave himself for once? Ask the woman out like a normal bloke?_

"Well, see you later then?" John asked as he stood up.

Kylie gave him a small smile, "Of course."

"Thank you for dinner Kylie."

"Goodnight John."

"Night!" he said as he walked out the door.

Kylie got up and shut the door behind the doctor before she turned around and leaned on the door staring at the floor in complete and utter shock.

_What on earth just happened?_


	5. Chapter 5

**A HUGE thanks to all my reviewers and all those who PMed me! I'm trying to sort through them all and get back to you, so please! Bare with me!**

**Hope you are enjoying!**

Kylie took off running down the streets of London with her ipod blaring at full blast, attempting to tune out the rest of the world around her as she put in her miles for the day. A red light barred her from continuing, so she took the opportunity to bed over, resting her hands on her knees as she tried to catch her breath.

_Only mile five? And I'm already feeling it? Damn, those two weeks screwed me… in more ways than one… _

She coughed, cursing the smoke and smog of the London air that was already getting in the way of her run.

_Why didn't I just move to San Diego with beaches and clean, fresh air?_

_Why?… you know why…_

She stood up and shut her eyes, trying to stop the thoughts running rampant in her mind once more.

She opened her eyes to see the walk indicator flashing before her, making her take off once more, increasing the pace until reality just became a blur and the only thing that she could focus on were her thoughts, and the burning in her lungs and legs.

Running had always been therapeutic for Kylie, ever since she was in junior high. Whenever she was stress, angry, or just needed to clear her head, she would run. It wasn't until late high school and her early college career that she had begun to discover yoga as well, fitting that into her daily regime. She found that the combination between the Eastern branch of exercise and mediation combined with running was an optimal mixture for her body and mind.

Most people worked out to stay in shape or lose weight, but Kylie used running and yoga to cope. Her job was stressful; dealing with catching killers as well as dealing with grieving families, danger, and a lot of sadness, running and yoga were her go to's after a long hard day. It was time to herself and she knew she always had to make time for it to stay sane.

Typically, when she ran, her thoughts had a way of sorting themselves out until her mind was completely blank and peaceful, but today she found her thoughts wandering to that of her life in the last forty-eight hours.

A little over forty-eight hours ago, she and been holed up in a hotel room that she had barely left in Eastern London, scouring the internet for a place to live. In that time, she had seen a flat, gotten a flat, met her neighbors, bought furniture, crashed a crime scene, caught a case, wow-ed boss, showed up the local big-shot, unpacked, set up her flat, had company over, and gotten lost in a stranger's eye.

_God, what in the HELL happened last night?_

One minute she had been sitting on the couch listening to the tall, dark-haired detective talk, and the next thing she knew, she had allowed a tear to escape and Sherlock was right there next to her.

She couldn't put her finger on it, but there had been something extremely strange with the dark-haired man. His light blue eyes pierced through her straight down to her soul. It was as if he could see straight down into the very core of her. It should scare her, and it did, but she felt somehow entranced by the man. He was brilliant. He saw through everyone and everything in seconds, yet he had read her wrong until he had had her entire flat to go off of. She had a habit of messing with men's (especially those with incredibly large) egos for kicks and couldn't resist messing with his, but once more… he was… different…

He seemed to smile after only glaring for a moment when she threw things back at him, almost amused at her cleverness. But nothing had compared to that look he had given her when he had sat next to her on the couch.

_Dear Lord…._

He had read her like a book, seeing nearly everything she had been trying to keep hidden in an instant. His eyes had bared through her like a power holding her in place until she had felt that tear hit her hand. She had been struggling to hold a poker face, not knowing that her eyes had been giving her away, when she had seen his face soften towards her with empathy. The look said a thousand things and had sent a shiver down her spine. But the strangest part was, he had looked at her as if she had been the only thing in the world that was of his interest at that very moment up until his flatmate had made a noise.

She knew she was just being absurd, of course. She had just met the man, and with what she had gathered from her short time at Scotland Yard that morning, was that he was short-tempered, extremely bright, an enormous asshole, and emotionless as well as out of touch with human empathy.

… and yet, she had seen what she had seen last night…

_Oh good GOD Kylie! Snap out of it! You are NOT doing this… you know what thinking about men on your runs means. You know what this leads to… something that cannot happen right now. You just had a weird moment there, where his gorgeous blue eyes were staring into yours while you felt safe for the first time in weeks…._

_…OH SERIOUSLY?!_

She shook her head as she pressed harder in frustration with her own mind. She didn't do this. This wasn't her. She just needed to get back to normalcy; normalcy and a new start.

Kylie slowed as she reached 221 Baker Street and inserted her key in the door just as her phone rang. Kylie shut the door as she looked at the caller ID.

SCOTLAND YARD.

She smiled.

_Lestrade's calling already._

"Gibbs," she answered the call as she walked to her flat and setting down her keys in the bowl by the door.

"Dr. Gibbs! Greg Lestrade. Listen, I was wondering if you would come back down to Scotland Yard? When I spoke to your old supervisor at the FBI, he told me you excelled in interrogation…"

Kylie rolled her eyes.

_Damn Lancaster and his big mouth…_

"…anyhow, we have the Husband in here and I have to say, I would like to see what you can do with the living as well as the dead."

She smiled to herself.

_Day one. Already…_

"Of course," she replied, "I would also like to have another look at the remains if you don't mind."

"Why would I?" Lestrade joked, "That's your area now, isn't it?"

She laughed, "Fair enough. I just got back from a run. I'll be there in half hour."

"Sounds good. Oh! And I should warn you, I'm going to bring Sherlock in on this one as well."

Kylie pause and smiled to herself as a thought crossed her mind.

"Can you do me a favor and give me twenty minutes before you call him? I'd like to have a head start. You know, throw him off his game a little."

Lestrade smiled to himself on the other end of the line. This was by _far_ the best hire he had ever made. The woman's reputation proceeded her. She was quick-witted, intelligent, was going to help him increase his arrest rate, and could give it right back to Sherlock; needless to say, the woman was nothing less of a dream.

"If it means throwing Sherlock for a loop, I'm in."

"Thank you Inspector."

"See you soon."

**&^#*( (# ***

Bored

Bored

Bored

Bored

Bored

Bored was the one word that kept echoing through the mind of Sherlock Holmes as he sat by the fire, carelessly plucking his violin as he waited by the phone.

Sure, he had a case, but his hands were tied until Lestrade could get the husband to talk to him or get a search warrant… this was the part that he hated; waiting by the phone.

He heard someone walk in the door with a phone ringing, distracting his raging mind for a moment.

_Kylie._

He listened to her tone.

_Laughing and light tone. Too early to be Lestrade. No one jokes with their boss that early on. Someone from America most likely. _

He shut his eyes and began plucking his violin once more, attempting to pass the time once more.

His over active mind began to focus on the last thing on his mind, which had happened to be the woman in 221C.

Kylie… now, there was an interesting thought. Sherlock was, for once in his life, completely puzzled by this woman. She was intriguing; much more intriguing than anyone else he had met. Sure, Irene Adler had been interesting, but The Woman had played her hand far too early, allowing him to win easily in the end, despite the cost to his brother.

The auburn-haired woman on the other hand… she was striking. She had fooled him upon his first impression of her.

_Stupid!_

He should have seen it.

The woman had rubbed it smugly in his face, which usually would have pissed him off into the next decade, but he had found himself smiling at her smart alec nature. How?! How had he found her fooling him and arrogantly embarrassing him somewhat funny?

_Because it was clever… very clever…_

That was true… fortunately, or unfortunately (he honestly didn't know anymore). She read skeletal remains like he read the rest of the world. The only person he knew that was just as good as him, if not better (but he would never admit that) was his brother. Then, out of the blue, came this woman. Despite the fact that he did not appreciate her comments, she was a challenge… someone for him to beat… and that, right there, interested him.

Last night though… last night he had seen something else in her that he had not seen upon that first meeting. He had been wrong about most things (her career, where she came from, the source of the ring and bracelet…) but the one thing that he had seen this time that he hadn't seen last was fear. Fear ate at her the moment he had spotted her tossing photos in the fireplace, giving him the idea that she was getting rid of evidence of a jilted ex-lover. No one burnt family pictures…

Well, not unless you were him…

But it was strange. This strong, intelligent woman had been so good at covering up her pain, that he hadn't seen it until he and John had caught her burning the pictures. Then it had been gone just as quickly as it had come, up until he had begun deducing her.

He was missing something about her. She was hiding something deep down inside of her… something he still had to figure out. He saw it in her eyes.

RING RING RING

Sherlock was startled out of his train of thought by the sound of his phone going off. One glance at the caller ID and a smile came over his face.

"Lestrade," he answered with a grin, "Husband in for questioning yet?"

He waited for the response before he stood up, setting his violin down in the corner before he hopped up.

"On our way," he stated before he hung up the phone, pocketing it immediately as he grabbed his coat and scarf.

"JOHN!"

"What in the bloody hell…" John said walking into the living room.

"The Husbands down at Scotland Yard. Grab your coat," he said heading for the door while John begrudgingly grabbed his jacket, muttering something under his breath.

Sherlock glanced back and took in his appearance as he put his hand on the doorknob.

_Shirt pressed._

_S_haved.

_ Actually put on after-shave._

_Trying to make an impression._

_Date tonight._

Smiling to himself, Sherlock began to open their front door and began to walk out while stating, "Your date can…"

He stopped mid sentence as he had turned around, as something had shocked him enough to stop.

There, standing right in front of their door, hands clasp behind her back wearing her coat and a grin, was Kylie.

Sherlock stopped and stared at her with a frown, "Can I help you?" he asked as he was wondering why she was hanging out in front of their door.

"Yes, I'd like to invite you to Scotland Yard to assist with the Mayberry case. The husbands been brought in for questioning," she told him politely and professionally.

Sherlock frowned even more in offense, before he flat out laughed at her.

She MUST be kidding.

"I'm sorry. YOU would like to invite ME to Scotland Yard to help with a case?"

Kylie gave him a questioning look as her face pointed to the fact that she was saying this will all seriousness, "Yeess, that's what I said now wasn't it?"

He laughed again, trying to see if she would break. But she just looked at him, puzzled by his humor.

His face fell.

_Not joking._

His laughter turned into shock, turned into rage. She was _seriously_ inviting _him_ to _assist?_!

ASSIST?!

Sherlock was fuming and rounded on Kylie fully, the woman not moving a muscle, as she held her poker face.

"Since when do they let amateurs play where the experts should be?" Sherlock bit back at her.

There was an instant sparkle in Kylie's eyes, as a grin spread out over her face.

"That was my point exactly, that's why I'm inviting the amateur to come see how the experts do it," she smiled at him politely.

Sherlock looked like a fish out of water as blatant shock ran through him. People hate him. He was used to being told to 'piss off' and being called names, but no one… and he meant NO ONE, had ever doubted his intelligence.

His eyes still filled with pure rage, and there were a thousand things that he wanted to say to the woman, but for once in his life, Sherlock Holmes was speechless.

With a quick smile, Kylie turned on her heel and proceeded down the stairs leaving a stunned Sherlock and extremely amused John at the door of 221B.

"Are you boys coming or not?" she called over her shoulder as she walked out the front door, "the invitation wont be open long!"

Sherlock just glared at the front door closing as John walked up beside him.

Sherlock just turned and looked at his flatmate, anger and shock holding his words back.

"Oh yeah," John smirked as he looked at his friend before he descended the staircase after her, "You totally fancy her," he called back up the stairs at the speechless, fuming, and shocked detective.

_This woman had become a whole lot less interesting, and exponentially more annoying…._

**Review?**


	6. Chapter 6

**Another huge thanks to my amazing reviewers! Seriously! You guys are completely awesome! I am so glad that you guys are enjoying this version!**

John and Kylie shared a cab over to the new Scotland Yard, as Sherlock had taken his own after stomping down the stairs, slamming the door shut like a child, and muttering under his breath before refusing to get into the same cab as them; all based on the childish fact that he was fuming at them.

Kylie had just grinned in amusement as Sherlock had climbed into the cab before yelling at John to take the next one and furiously slamming the door shut in his face.

It had taken a few moments for them to find another and for John to calm down, but he did eventually find Kylie's sense of humor with his roommate funny after a moment.

They now sat in a comfortable silence as they rode in the cab together.

"I think you may have been the first person, ever, to do that sort of thing to Sherlock," he stated out of the blue.

Kylie turned and smiled at him. The Doctor had emerged from 221B extremely amused and only took a few comments and minutes for him to get over Sherlock's fit about the cab.

She had no idea why, but messing with the man who saw through everything and every one in seconds was by far the most fun she had had in years. And Lord, knows she needed the distraction and entertainment.

"You think I was too hard on him?" she asked slightly sheepishly.

"Oh heavens no," John laughed, "Its good for him."

She laughed and ran a hand through her hair, "Don't get me wrong, this is the most fun Ive had in ages, but I did take the man's ego down a notch, and then called him an amateur. I cant stop myself sometimes. But I almost… just _almost_ feel bad for the poor guy."

"Trust me," John said pointedly as he looked at her, "If there is one thing that that man needs, its for his ego to be taken down a bit."

Kylie chuckled and grinned at the man. She was becoming quite fond of the doctor. She could immediately tell that he was true to his friend through both thick and thin. Sherlock didn't seem to be an easy person for everyone to get along with, from what she had heard at the Yard and yet, the two seemed inseparable. It was to the point where the land lady thought that they were actually dating, which humored Kylie.

She didn't know if it was the fact that he was so faithful and true to his friend, or the fact that he was military man that made her feel so comfortable with him. But in a way, Dr. Watson reminded her a lot of her father.

"He's not an amateur though." John said snapping her out of her thoughts.

"Hmm? Oh…yeah I know." Kylie said while running a hand through her hair. "He's brilliant." She smiled before she turned to the Doctor, the sparkle in her blue eyes once again returning, "But who could resist messing with his head?"

John laughed as their cab slowed and grabbed a note out of his wallet handing it to the driver while shushing an objecting Kylie.

"You just gave me ammunition against Sherlock, the least I can do is pay for your cab fare."

"Chivalry does still exist," she chided as she got out of the cab.

She stepped out into the crisp London air as she looked at the new Scotland Yard for the second time that day.

Just as John was joining her on the curb, a second cab pulled up as the driver and the occupant exchanged a few angry words, before an angry looking Sherlock emerged from the cab.

"You don't even know your way around London and you call yourself a cabbie!" he said before he slammed the door shut, ignoring the driver cursing at him.

He stopped and looked at a shocked and amused Kylie and John before angrily brooding to himself once more and stomping into the building.

Kylie glanced at John as the two of them watched Sherlock's retreating form.

"Must have taken a wrong turn or two," she commented as both the cabs drove off.

"Must have. He left nearly three minutes before us and he knows London like the back of his hand."

"Impressive," Kylie stated as they fell into silence once more.

"You think we should warn Lestrade that he's in a mood?" she asked after a moment.

"Trust me," John told her as he straightened his jacket, "he just assumes by now."

***(&#(* &# (* **

Lestrade stood behind the one-way mirror of the interrogation room watching Edmund Mayberry. The man looked…bored. Not nervous at all, just bored. Either he was a psychopathic son of a bitch, or just egotistical. Either way, Lestrade knew he was their guy.

Now, he just needed his new forensic anthropologist and consulting detective to prove it… that is ,if they didn't kill each other first.

He smiled to himself; Kylie seemed to be handling Sherlock remarkably well. Though he did not believe it went both ways. Sherlock had never been challenged by any other human being, well except Moriarty with that bombing incident. But then again, Lestrade highly doubted that that particular psychopath was actually human.

"Where is he?" Sherlock said as he burst through the viewing room.

Lestrade just looked at him and raised an eyebrow at him, not impressed with his mood.

"WELL?" he asked.

"Did Kylie and John come with you?" Lestrade asked calmly.

Sherlock glared at him before he looked at viewing window, seeing the man behind the glass.

"Freaks are here," Donovan said as she walked in with Kylie and John right behind her before she noticed Sherlock standing there, "Oh, the main freak's already here."

Sherlock turned and glared at her as Kylie looked at her in surprise.

"You are the one sleeping with 'helmet hair'," Kylie scoffed, "The lady sleeping with a married man, calls the most brilliant man in the room a 'freak', how ironic…"

Donovan turned to stare at her questioningly.

"He tell you to say that?" Donovan asked her, looking her up and down.

"No, your shampoo did," Kylie told her with a smile.

Donovan stared at her for a moment before storming out of the room in frustration.

Lestrade watched his Sergeant go, before turning to look at Kylie, noticing Sherlock looking at her with a confusion on his face; as if he couldn't figure out why on earth she had stood up for him.

"You really figure that out by what shampoo she uses?" Lestrade asked, shocked with his new hire once more.

"No," Kylie said simply, "Heard Sherlock say it yesterday, and I dont like the word 'freak'."

John smirked to himself, seeing what Kylie was doing.

"Well," Kylie said clapping her hands together, "we aren't getting anything out of just watching him."

"Right!" Lestrade said as he handed her the file.

Kylie took it from him with a smile as she turned on her heel and walked out of the room.

Sherlock watched the scene play out in total shock.

"Her? You are letting HER interrogate the suspect?" he asked, nearly seething.

"Yes," Lestrade argued back.

"She's an anthropologist!"

"Like you, she's brilliant. Unlike you, she works for the Yard, has had specialized training in interrogation from the FBI, and doesn't have a habit of pissing off the people around them constantly."

"I would like to point out that…" Sherlock began before John cut him off.

"Pissing you off doesn't count, Sherlock," he said flatly.

"I am a person!"

"Yes, but there's a saying that says 'what goes around, comes around'," John smiled back at his friend.

Sherlock just stared at him for a moment.

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"Oh Lord…" John sighed.

"She'll get information out of them Sherlock!" Lestrade inputted once more, "You'd just annoy them until they clam up and ask for a lawyer…"

"At least I'd have had enough to deduce…"

"SHUT UP!" both Lestrade and John yelled at him.

Sherlock glared at the glass window in front of him before turning and muttering under his breath.

Lestrade wasn't sure, but he thought he had heard him mutter something about "amateur" and "showoff".

The three men watched Kylie enter the room. Lestrade had heard about this girl's skills other than looking at bones and pissing off his on-hand consulting detective. She'd worked with the FBI on countless occasions and heard that she was one of the best interrogators that they had, even though she was not an agent. She had no "official" training, though growing up with her father probably taught her a thing or two about it.

He pressed a button on the mirror frame and the sounds of the conversation filled the room.

"Mr. Mayberry you do realize that you have waved having your lawyer present?" Kylie stated as she stood in the corner with the file observing the man at the table.

"Yes, yes. Annoying sod that one is," he said as he waved his hands in annoyance, "Expensive as hell too."

"Well if he did do it, he's arrogant." John commented.

The group watched as Kylie then walked to the chair opposite of Edmund Mayberry and took a seat the file in front of her and hands folded on top of the file before calmly staring back at him.

"Mr. Mayberry, where were you on the 5th between 5 and 9 pm?"

Mayberry looked at her in shock before laughing.

"Seriously? You're asking me for my alibi?"

"Just answer the question."

"Really? You REALLY think I killed my wife."

"I never said that. I just asked where you were on the night of the 5th between the hours of 5 and 9 pm?" Kylie stated calmly once more.

"Do you even know who I am?" Mr. Mayberry stated as he begin to get up from his chair.

"Sit down Mr. Mayberry," Kylie said warningly as she leaned back in her chair picking up the file and beginning to read it lazily.

"I am one of the most powerful men in Britain…"

"I said, sit down…"

"I can have your neck in an instant…"

"Last warning. Sit. Down."

"I will let you know that I will have…OOF" suddenly Kylie had shoved the metal table with her foot right at the screaming man and the very corner of the metal table had hit him dead square in the crotch, causing him to double over in pain before falling to the floor.

"I told you to sit down Mr. Mayberry," Kylie said as she sighed, folding the file and placing it on the table. She slowly stood back up and walked over to where the man laid squatting down next to him, "These tables can be awfully slippery on these floors."

"Now, I'm going to ask you again. Where were you on the night of the 5th between the hours of 5 and 9 pm?"

"Hhh-home," the man was able to get out.

"Cooouuld anyone verify that for me?" Kylie asked.

The man just continued to whimper on the floor.

Kylie just looked at him and sighed before she helped pick him up off the floor and help him back into his chair, where he sat, bent over and still whimpering in pain.

"I am really sorry about that accident. We had someone else have that happen JUST last week."

Mayberry rocked back and forth slightly, trying to dull his pain.

"So… is there anyone who can verify the fact that you were home on the night of the fifth?"

"I want my lawyer! This is police brutality!" he whimpered.

A smirk came over Kylie's face as she looked at the reflective glass of the one-way mirror before she carefully placed a hand on the back of Mayberry's chair and leaned down and whispered something in his ear.

John leaned closer as he strained his ears to hear. It didn't sound as if the microphone in the room was picking it up.

"What'd she say?" he asked before they all saw Mayberry's eyes widen before he looked at her with slight shock and fear before he looked back at the table.

"Cynthia Pemburton," he finally told her quietly.

Kylie smiled once more and grabbed the file with out another word before walking out of the room all together.

"Well…that was…" John began.

"Different?" Lestrade supplied.

The observation room door opened and Kylie walked into the room.

"He didn't do it. Let him go," she told Lestrade.

"Wait, what? How the hell did you get that?" Lestrade asked. He really did not want to let this guy go. He just wanted the file off his desk and the case to be closed.

"The bruise on his neck," Sherlock stated as he continued to stare at the man in the room, "That, and the slight smudge of lipstick on his shirt collar."

Lestrade then rounded on the detective. "You said he was hiding something! Now you believe an alibi he makes up?"

"You don't see you don't observe!" Sherlock said as he shut his eyes in exasperation, "How do you not see it! He was hiding something!"

John and Lestrade all looked puzzled until Kylie stated, "An affair."

"Affair?" John asked, looking back at the man, not having caught it at all.

"The bruise on his neck has a small indent in the bruise pattern indicating that whomever bit and bruised Mr. Mayberry's neck had a small gap in between her teeth. Also no woman in their mid-forties wear that horrible shade of pink, not even a trophies wife. It's a much younger woman's shade. My guess is that this Cynthia Pemburton is about mid-twenties and works for him somehow." Kylie stated.

Lestrade just looked at Kylie for a moment before he turned and looked at Sherlock. "You see. This is why I like this girl. She explains things to me instead of huff about and call me an idiot because I'm not as clever as she is."

Kylie felt a slight blush creep up her cheeks as Sherlock rolled his eyes and glowered once more.

_God,_ s_he hated being the center of attention…_

"Right well, may I see the remains again?" Kylie asked Lestrade.

"Yeah, the remains are at Bart's." Lestrade stated as he pulled out his phone. "I'll go pick up the mistress while you lot go get us more evidence."

And with that, Lestrade left the room.

"Well," Kylie turned and smiled at the two men, "You two want to come and look at a dead lady with me?"

A very small smirk over came Sherlock's face as he cocked an eyebrow at her; that look making John groan inwardly as he knew what was to come.

"You mean, would we show you how to properly gather evidence and properly deduce facts? Which in that case, yes, John and I will accompany you to Barts." Sherlock stated while walking out of the room, leaving stunned Kylie and exasperated John behind.

Kylie stared at where he had been a moment earlier before scoffing and quickly following behind him.

"This is because I got to interrogate the suspect and you didn't," she laughed slightly, rubbing it in a bit more.

"No," he stated simply as they walked through Scotland Yard, "This is about bad police work. Cant have you making a mess of things, can we?"

Kylie laughed bitterly as she put on her gloves, "Excuse me. But ever since I have gotten here, all I have done is break this case wide open for you."

"Please," Sherlock scoffed at her as they broke through the front door of the Yard, hearing John's footsteps behind them.

"Okay, well even _if_ you had figured out all that I had figured out for you… which you didn't… I still am the one with a PhD in Forensic Anthropology and specialize in looking at skeletal remains, which this case mainly deals with!" She crossed her arms and stared at him, "Tell me, do you even have a degree?"

"Please, you just have to show up to get a PhD in America. American universities don't even have standards."

"_Excuse me_?!"

John groaned out loud as the argument continued as they looked for a cab. His head was already pounding and it wasn't even lunch yet.

This was going to be a _long_ case.

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	7. Chapter 7

**You guys are amazing! Seriously! Thanks so much for all the amazing reviews! FYI, just so every knows, this story is pre-Reichenbach… as you'll see later…**

**Anyhow, on with the story!**

"American Universities are useless."

"Oh, this is about me being one of 'them damn yankees' now isn't it? For your information, America is the leading researcher in almost all of the scientific fields."

"That's because they outsource their work. Everybody knows that."

John groaned to himself as he put his head in his hands. He was trapped in the back of the cab with the two brightest and most stubborn people he knew. He liked Kylie. She was smart, cunning, beautiful, sincere, and could kick Sherlock's ass. He had enjoyed Kylie throwing his friend for a loop, and his friends odd behavior towards her, but with their constant bickering that had begun at Scotland Yard had not wavered in the last ten minuets, he was beginning to enjoy it a lot less. Even the cabbie looked annoyed.

"I'm sorry, so if I had gotten a PhD from a school in another country, even though I graduated with top marks from the most highly regarded school for forensic anthropology and studied under the leading expert in the field, its all useless because its from America?"

"Yes, that is essentially what I'm saying."

"Do you not realize how illogical that argument is?"

"Its…."

"BLOODY HELL will the two of you SHUT UP!" John yelled not able to take the bickering any longer.

Kylie and Sherlock looked at him in shock. Neither of them had expected John to have the outburst.

"You," John said pointing at Sherlock, "need to actually listen to her and stop insulting her intelligence. You know for a fact that she is just a brilliant as you, so stop trying to take her down a notch and accept that there is someone out there who can challenge you."

Kylie grinned and leaned back in the seat, satisfied that she had won the argument.

"Or beat you," she rubbed in, not being able to resist the chide.

"And you…" John said rounding on her.

Kylie's face dropped. She had not thought that John would tell her off at all.

"…You need to stop purposely picking and purposely dragging out the fights…"

She opened her mouth to argue, but John held up a hand.

"No," he told her pointedly, "You enjoy bickering with him _far_ too much when you know you should just let it go all together and messing with his head. As entertaining as it is to watch, I cannot take the long extended bickering!"

John paused and took a deep breath as the cab slowed to a stop in front of Bart's.

"Its not my fault he is wrong," Kylie told him.

"I'm not wrong, I'm never wrong," Sherlock argued back.

"Seriously! America has the leading university in nearly every subject…"

"GOD!" John yelled again as he threw the door open, "You two are seriously a bloody married couple!"

That comment shocked Kylie and Sherlock into silence as the doctor exited the cab and angrily stormed into the hospital.

Silence overtook the cab as they both sat there, stunned.

"So… you two seriously arent married?" the cabbie asked, "Because I would have bet my life you two had been married for at least 7 years."

The two glared at the cab driver for a second before Sherlock dug a note out of his pocket and thrusted it angrily at the cabbie before he stepped out of the cab.

"Not even close," Kylie told him before she followed Sherlock out of the cab and into the hospital.

**&* &#( *)**

Molly was tidying up the morgue when she heard the morgue door swing open to accommodate a very angry looking Watson storming into the morgue.

Molly frowned. The doctor was usually calm and warm-natured; not to mention, never came into the morgue alone.

"Can I help you Dr. Watson?" Molly smiled at him timidly.

John's head snapped towards her and immediately soften towards the girl, "Oh, right sorry. Hello Molly."

"Stressful day, is it?" she asked.

John opened his mouth to respond, but was cut off as the door opened once more.

Sherlock waltz into the morgue, with Kylie close behind.

"Molly," Sherlock said not even looking at her, as he walked immediately over to some equipment and began tinkering with it,"We need to look at the burned woman's body."

Molly instantly blushed in Sherlock's presences, but instantly stiffened upon laying her eyes upon the auburn haired woman.

"Oh right, who is she?" Molly asked timidly.

Kylie didn't miss the way the meek woman blushed and had looked at the detective, and then her. She smiled politely at the woman. She was going to be working with her a lot.

"Hi," Kylie stated walking over to her extending her hand. "I'm Dr. Kylie Gibbs. I'm the new forensic anthropologist Scotland Yard Hired."

Molly accepted her hand timidly and gave the new woman an uneasy smile. "Hello." Molly stood there looking Kylie over for a minute trying to figure out if she was with the man she had been trying to get to notice her for years now.

Kylie was taller than her, prettier than her, but she wore clothing that was more fashionable. Sherlock didn't care about looks. He cares about brains, and I doubt this woman has any. She was too pretty and he doesn't like it when people that comply with fashion…

…Right? …Right?

"The body Molly?" Sherlock said in his usual bored fashion.

"Oh right, of course." Molly said slightly blushing and hurrying off to get the body. Kylie shot John a curious look about what had just occurred. John just shook his head with a look of dismay.

Molly wheeled the gurney to the center of the room underneath the light. Kylie and Sherlock donned gloves as she politely thanked the morgue attendant. Sherlock unzipped the body bag and eagerly began examining the body.

Sherlock pulled out his magnifying glass and began scrutinizing every inch of the woman's body. Kylie on the other hand, began closely looking at the woman's rib cage.

"She was stabbed," Kylie said looking closer.

Sherlock stopped and moved over to where Kylie was standing. Standing impossibly close as he examined the ribcage also. John saw Molly's face drop as she shifted awkwardly and looked away. He sighed and ran a hand over his face.

God, Sherlock really needed to talk with her.

"The nick in the third rib," Sherlock said as his fingers gently traced over the bone. "Of course how did I miss that?"

"You mean, how did I miss that before?" Kylie said turning her head slightly to look at him as they stood incredibly close together.

_He really was quite handsome…_

"Its understandable for amateurs to miss things." Sherlock said as he shrugged, his eyes still examining the nick in the rib cage.

John groaned and dropped his head, "Here we bloody go again."

"You have GOT to be kidding me?" Kylie said standing up and stepping back so that she could yell at him properly. "I'm the one who pointed it out!"

"Well, if you were an expert, you would have known that she was covered in gasoline before she was burned," Sherlock said standing and facing her properly.

She paused and looked at him, crossing her arms, "And why do you say that?"

"The cracks in the bone suggest an extremely high heat source. Fire, as we well know, but this woman was burned with something hotter due to the cracking in her bones we know that it was hotter than just fire. So there's the use of the accelerant, and by looking at bone itself, we know that it was gasoline. Gasoline burns hotter than any other accelerant."

Kylie stared at him for a moment before a smile slowly broke out over her face.

"It was kerosene, not gasoline," she told him quietly, "Kerosene burns slower and by the deep cracking in the bone we can tell that yes, the fire was indeed hot, but the depth if the crack tells us how long it burned, not how hot. The deeper the cracking, the longer the burn. You are correct in that gasoline burns the hottest, but it is also the quickest to dissipate. By the looks of our victim here, she burned for over two hours which the only accelerant that would last that long would be kerosene."

Sherlock just stared at her for a moment before a smirk began to cover his face as well. The pair just looked at each other for a moment, locked in a gaze, before Kylie cleared her throat and broke the gaze with a slight blush.

_Seriously, what was wrong with her?_

She refocused herself on the body at hand. she examined the wound for a minuet before she suddenly turned to John.

"You were in the Military right?" she asked him.

"Uh…Yes." John asked not seeing how this was relative to the case at all.

"The knife you were given, you still carry it?" Kylie asked.

"Oh, uh.. yeah," John said fishing through his pockets and pulling out a pocketknife. Kylie grabbed it and pulled another knife out of her own pocket, opening them both and comparing the blades to each other and then to the wound.

"You carry a knife..?" John started to ask before Kylie cut him off.

"Our woman was stabbed with this same knife. All the markers fit. This is same knife that is dispersed to all branches of the British military, correct?"

"Only British army," John told her, "Royal Navy and Air Force have different armories."

"Our killer was a military man, more specifically an army man," Sherlock said his eyes sparkling with excitement.

"Precisely," Kylie said as she looked at him with a smile.

John, at this point was still stuck on the fact that Kylie carried around a large military style knife. "I'm sorry, why do you have knife?"

"A rule my father taught me," she told him as she repocketed the knife and handed John back his, "Never go anywhere without a knife." Kylie stated.

"Actually somewhat of a wise rule to have," Sherlock stated.

Kylie smiled at him once more, "Of course it is. A girl never knows when she'll need a knife."

Once more, the two held eye contact for longer than expected.

"Right," Molly muttered, "I'm just going to … er… go.."

Molly retreated out of the room with her head down and face red, causing all three of the other living occupants to look at her.

"Is it just me or is she totally head over heels for you?" Kylie inquired Sherlock with a grin.

"She is," John said as he crossed his arms and leaned up against a table, "I told you, you need to talk to her Sherlock."

He just sighed loudly and rolled his eyes as he stripped off his gloves.

"Can we just go catch a killer?"

Kylie let out a laugh and walked out of the lab. Sherlock made to follow immediately before John stopped him, glancing over his shoulder to ensure that Kylie was well out of ears-reach.

"Look, you really need to talk to Molly if you arent interested. Especially if you and Kylie… you know…"

Sherlock looked at him in confusion, "Kylie and I, what?"

John stared at him in shock.

_Jesus, this man was ignorant to his own attraction to the woman. _

"You know, date?"

Sherlock looked at him for a moment in pure puzzlement.

"Why on earth would I ever do that?" he asked.

John shut his eyes in frustration.

"Because thats what people do Sherlock."

"Not me…"

"Hey, boys," Kylie said as she poked her head back into the morgue, "We going or what?"

Sherlock gave John one last confused look before walking out of the morgue, leaving John behind.

The doctor sighed heavily and looked up at the ceiling in frustration and admonishment.

_This was going to be nearly impossible, wasn't it?_

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	8. Chapter 8

**You guys are simply amazing. Seriously. I am having such a blast rewriting it! I hope you guys are enjoying it as much as I am! **

**A HUGE thanks to everyone who reviewed! For real! I love you guys!**

The trio returned to Scotland Yard once more, only to find Lestrade at his desk picking up his phone.

"I thought you were picking up the mistress?" Kylie asked, walking into Lestrade's office along with Sherlock and John.

"Speak of the devil," Lestrade said hanging the phone back up. "I was just about to call you lot. We have Miss Pemburton in interrogation now."

Without a word, Sherlock just walked out of the room closely followed by Kylie, leaving John and Lestrade looking confused.

The DI sighed and looked at the other man.

"Great, I have two of them now," he commented getting up from his chair and starting to follow them, John right beside him.

"Yeah, well, you didn't have to endure their bickering all morning," he told him as they walked.

"They bicker?" Lestrade said slightly surprised, "I figured they were too much alike for that."

"Like a married couple, "John stated bitterly before sarcastically asking, "You think she's a lot like Sherlock and she wouldn't argue stuff to the grave?"

Lestrade laughed, "Touche."

The older man stopped John right before they walked into interrogation, ensuring that they wouldn't be over heard.

"Look, I don't know Sherlock as well as you do, nor do I know anything about what he's into, but do you think…"

"That he fancies Kylie?" John asked with a raised eyebrow, "I think he does, but he is completely ignorant to his own attraction to her."

Lestrade sighed and ran a hand through his hair, "How can he be though?"

John shrugged, "He's Sherlock. I mean in all the time you have known him, have you seen him been attracted to a woman?"

"There was Irene, wasn't there?"

"Yeah, but look how that one panned out," John told him, "Plus I think that Irene was different anyway."

"How so?"

"The Woman pretty much threw herself at him and happened to be working for Moriarty."

"She was a dominatrix. That's what she does for a living."

"Yeah, but I think that this one is different. She's solving cases with him, not becoming a case for him."

Lestrade smiled at him, "You think she might be the one to actually get him to date?"

John looked at him pointedly, "Its Sherlock. But all that I know, as far as Sherlock goes, this is the closest thing I have ever seen him to having a crush on a girl."

**&^#( *&#( **

Kylie and Sherlock reached the observation room and took a good look at their latest suspect. Miss Pemburton was in her mid to late twenties. Her hair was bleached blond and done up. She also had a lot of makeup on her face, and was extremely…. surgically enhanced.

They studied her in silence as they heard Lestrade and John talking quietly outside the door.

"They're talking about us," Sherlock commented dryly as he stared at the woman in the room.

"Hm," Kylie muttered as she turned and looked at the door, "You know why?"

"Not a clue."

She turned and smiled at him, "Interesting. The man who knows the answer to everything is stumped."

He turned to glare at her, to see her smiling at him. It obviously being a joke.

A smirk began to cover his face as he turned back to look at the woman in the room.

"I find that guessing about gossip never helps me."

"Oh, so you do guess?" she smiled at him.

He looked at her out of the corner of his eye. She had proven to be quite helpful.

"When it suits me. Don't tell anyone."

She laughed lightly, causing Sherlock to chuckle as well.

Lestrade and John walked into the room.

"Well, you want to talk to her then?" he asked.

"Yep," Kylie said as she grabbed the file off the table in front of her, before glancing at Sherlock, "He gets to come with me though."

Lestrade and John looked at her in slight shock as Sherlock smirked, not even moving his gaze from the suspect.

"You're kidding. You two wouldn't stop bickering like five minutes ago!" John said in slight disbelief.

Kylie shrugged and smiled, "Female secretary who has a thing for her dark-haired boss? It can't hurt to bring another handsome man into the room."

"Alright," Lestrade said as he watched the two of them leave, the door shutting behind them.

Silence.

"I dont know whether to be hurt she didn't ask us to go in there with her, or be happy they are taking a break from bickering," John commented.

Lestrade just looked at him before shaking his head and watching them enter the room, "I give them till Christmas before they are humping each other's brains out."

John looked at him, "I'll take that bet."

The door on the other side of the mirror opened, causing Lestrade and John to drop the conversation at hand.

"Hello Miss Pemburton," Kylie said while pulling out a chair and sitting down, "My name is Dr. Kyleigha Gibbs, this is Sherlock Holmes…"

"Wait, from the blog?!" the woman gaped in a very peppy-cheerleader like tone.

Kylie straightened and turned to him questioningly, while smirking.

"You have a blog? That people read?" she asked.

"Yes, I have a blog," he told her.

"You mean John Watson's blog," Miss Pemburton gushed, "Oh. My. God. I can't believe I am actually talking to Sherlock Holmes. I have to text the club about this…" she said as she pulled her cell phone out.

Sherlock glared at the table. He had to find a way to delete that blog forever.

"You have a fan club?" Kylie gaped, trying her best not to laugh, "A fan club…"

"I do not…"

"Yes! Its amazing. Like, seriously…"

Kylie fought laughter as Sherlock glared at the table.

"So, this group?" Kylie asked with interest, "Where and when do they meet?"

The woman smiled at her as she opened her mouth to answer.

"Who else are you seeing other than Mr. Mayberry?" Sherlock said cutting her off before she could answer.

The woman looked at him, completely taken aback, "I'm sorry?"

"Oh, come on, let her answer," Kylie chided.

"Whom, with whom else are you sleeping with other than Mr. Mayberry?" Sherlock asked again through gritted teeth.

Miss Pemburton stared at him for a moment before fiddling with a bracelet on her wrist, "How did you know about us?"

"He told us," Sherlock said flatly.

She looked at him with shock.

"No one knew. He promised not to tell…"

"Men tend to lie when sex is involved."

"Speaking from experience?" Kylie asked out of the corner of her mouth.

"Of course not. I'm married to my work. Ive heard…or so I've seen from John, and the men in the movies on John's laptop…"

"John has men on his laptop?" Kylie asked, "Interesting. Wouldn't have pegged that as his type."

There was a thump on the glass as they heard someone yell something behind the one-way mirror, causing Kylie to struggle to keep a straight and professional face.

"He was sleeping with other people?" Pemburton asked, obviously crushed.

"Other than his wife? No," Sherlock stated flatly, "But that wasn't the question. The question was, were you, Miss Pemburton, sleeping with anyone else?"

She stared at him for a moment.

"I… I'm not sleeping with anyone else…"

Sherlock leaned back in his chair and snorted in disbelief.

Kylie shot him a look before she leaned forward, softening towards the young woman.

"Look Miss Pemburton, we aren't here to judge. We just want all the facts. Someone murdered Mrs. Mayberry and we think it may be someone linked to you." Kylie said in a supporting fashion.

"I'm not seeing anyone else!" she said exasperatedly.

"The bracelet you are wearing says otherwise," Sherlock stated.

"What?"

"The bracelet you keep toying with. There is an engraving on the inside. 'All my love- Timmy'. Its not all that elegant. Everything else you are wearing is. All name brand and groomed to look the best as it possibly can. The bracelet however is cleaned and cared for, but not expensive. So its a thoughtful gift, or reminder. Suggests that it is from a lover, not a father, or brother. One, that is much less wealthy than our Mr. Mayberry, such as someone in the military, perhaps?" Sherlock asked in a bored tone.

"Wow, you really are as brilliant as the blog states," Miss Pemburton said as she just looked at Sherlock in amazement.

Sherlock smiled, pleased with himself.

"Please, don't stroke his ego," Kylie told her, "It already needs a rental space the size of Texas to store it when he's not using it."

Miss Pemburton just stared at her.

"Name," Sherlock said flatly.

"Sorry?"

"Name. What's his name?" Sherlock pried more in frustration.

She looked down once more, toying with the bracelet again.

"Please, Miss Pemburton. Someone lost their life. I know you didn't want that for anyone."

The secretary shut her eyes.

"Timmy." she said slowly. "Timothy Worthington."

"Cynthia," Kylie said slowly, "Is he in the military?"

"He's British S.A.S," she answered quietly and smiled, "We fell in love a couple of years ago. Then he got deployed. Iraq mainly. I got lonely and we needed the money, so I began having an affair with Mr. Mayberry."

She paused and wiped a tear off her face.

"He came home last week and surprised me just as Mr. Mayberry had arrived at my place. He got in his face, and nearly punched him. Yelling that he would take away what he had taken away from him before he stormed out. I havent heard from him since. He wont return any of my calls, but I never thought that he would ever do anything like this."

Sherlock got up and left the room, completely satisfied with that answer.

Miss Pemburton looked up at him, completely crushed.

Kylie reached out and covered her hand with hers.

"I know you didn't," she told her with a kind smile before she got up and followed Sherlock out, to find him talking to John and Lestrade.

"…if the boyfriend's knife has human blood on it, arrest him. He's most likely at a friend's flat near Westchester. She lied. She saw him this morning by the dirt on her heels."

Lestrade looked at Kylie as she walked in.

"Well, good job you two!" he told them, "You know, you two make quite a pair."

Both Kylie and Sherlock gave him a look as John stifled a laugh.

"I mean as a team," he smirked at them.

_Or as a couple…_

"I'll let you know when I find the boyfriend!" Lestrade said as he pulled out his phone and walked out of the room.

Kylie turned and looked at the two men left in the room.

"You guys hungry?"

Sherlock looked at her and smirked slightly.

"Starved."

Kylie smiled back at him as John narrowed his eyes and looked between the two of them.

_Was this SERIOUSLY happening right in front of him?_

"Good," she said simply as she turned to John, "John, you hungry?"

"Yes, but I am not about to participate in what you two are talking about," he told them.

Both Kylie and Sherlock looked at him in confusion.

"What? Chinese takeout?" Kylie asked.

John looked between the two of them.

"Wait, weren't you two just talking about…?"

He trailed off expectantly, waiting for them (… well, Kylie) to fill in the blanks. Not seeing any begin to click, he realized that they really had been talking about dinner; no flirting involved, despite what it had seemed.

"Never mind," John muttered as he walked out of the room.

Kylie and Sherlock watched him leave, puzzled.

"What was that about?" she asked him.

"No idea," Sherlock stated with a shrug.

"Hm."

The pair began to walk out after John.

"You know, I know this great little Chinese Restaurant a few blocks away from Baker Street who delivers for free," he told her.

"Wow, free delivery. I havent seen that in ages."

"Well," he smiled, "Its not for everyone."

"Why?" she inquired as she grinned, "You get the owner off a murder charge or something?"

"No," he smirked cheekily, "Helped him put in a shelf."

Kylie laughed as they joined John outside on the sidewalk of the Yard, as a legacy of a trio of friendship and adventures had began.

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	9. Chapter 9

**A massive thanks to my incredible readers and an even BIGGER thank you to those of you who reviewed! For real, you guys are honestly amazing!**

"You're kidding?!" Kylie laughed as she sat in one of the armchairs in the upstairs flat of Baker Street, taking her second scotch that John handed her as he walked back to his seat, "You guys _seriously _got chased around a roof with a midget with a blow dart?"

"He was an assassin employed by an Indian billionaire," Sherlock said as he took a drink of his scotch, "He obviously had to be caught."

"So you guys played duck, duck, goose and ring around the rosy for an hour with a midget, while dodging poisonous _blow darts_?" Kylie laughed.

"Hey, to our credit," John said pointedly, "That little bastard was quick."

Kylie laughed, "Oh, but that doesn't mean that I wouldn't have paid to see it."

"It was a pretty ridiculous case," Sherlock agreed.

They had gotten take out and retreated back up to John and Sherlock's flat, where they had taken to talking about old cases and drinking long into the night.

"MMH!" John exclaimed mid-sip of his scotch, "Did you tell her about the time with the french liquor?"

Sherlock started laughing loudly, making John laugh as well.

Kylie smiled at the pair of friends.

_They really had shared some crazy adventures…_

"No, that one…" Sherlock said as he finished his drink, "That one, is for another day."

"Oh come on now," Kylie said as she leaned forward, smiling as she swirled her drink in her glass, "You cant get a girl interested, than back off!"

John laughed as he yawned, "You obviously don't know Sherlock."

Sherlock gave John a strange look as Kylie laughed.

"Oh, okay, well if you aren't going to tell me, I'll just have to look up this fan club and ask them for myself.." she said as she pulled out her phone.

"What? No…" Sherlock said as his face dropped, "No, don't."

"Why? I keep hearing so much about your blog."

"You mean my blog," John corrected her, "No one, and I mean no one reads Sherlock's blog."

"People read my blog!" Sherlock argued.

"No one cares about a hundred and fifty different types of tobacco ash!"

"One hundred and fifty three," Sherlock corrected.

Kylie just looked at them with amusement as John rolled his eyes before she looked back down at the phone.

"Oh, that hat is adorable Sherlock," Kylie laughed as she looked at the blog.

"Hat?" he asked as his head snapped towards her.

"Tell me," she asked, laughing, "Do you always have to wear that hat when solving crimes?"

"Good God," Sherlock said angrily as he glared at John who was getting up and stretching, "You _seriously_ put up that picture of me in that hat?"

"Yep, I'm not taking it down, and now I'm going to bed so I don't have to hear about it," John said with a smile, "Night Kylie!"

"Night John!" Kylie said with a grin.

John disappeared up the stairs, leaving Sherlock and Kylie alone.

"Well, now that I have reading material, I should let you go to bed," Kylie said as she finished her drink.

"I don't sleep very often," Sherlock told her.

"Join the club," Kylie stated, "I have to say, I haven't slept very well since I left the states. Takes me a while to adapt to new places I guess."

_That had to be the biggest lie you have said in a while. Flashbacks don't count as a reason that many people share with you…_

"Though I doubt thats your reason," Kylie continued, trying to get the topic onto something else so that she wouldn't have to sit there and think about herself.

"No, my mind is like a rocket, tearing itself to bits; never stopping, never ceasing," he said before he even realized the words had come out of his mouth.

_Why was he telling this woman this?_

He looked up at her. She had set her phone down and was looking at him with a softness on her face that he couldn't understand.

"I get that," she told him quietly, "I bet that is hard. You find that you don't need sleep to 'reset'?"

He looked at her quizzically. Most people scoffed at his rocket and computer analogy for his own brain, but she… she got it.

"Of course I need sleep. Human's need REM sleep to survive."

"Yes, but you said it yourself," she told him as she ran a hand through her hair, "Your mind never stops. How can you achieve REM sleep when your mind is constantly going?"

He looked at her for a moment before looking back down at his empty glass.

"I find ways," he told her.

She raised an eyebrow at him, "So you pretty much work yourself into exhaustion in order to sleep?"

He didn't respond, he just looked at her.

She smiled at him before she finished her drink and got up, pocketing her phone and walking over to where he was sitting on the couch.

"That's not healthy you know. You really should take better care of yourself. Your brain probably doesn't work quite as well when you are exhausted and constantly ill."

He looked up at her and smiled, "That's why I have a doctor as a flatmate."

Kylie laughed, "Yes, but as a pre-emptive strike for you not to get shot and be able to think when you needed to; get some sleep," she told him as she bent down and kissed his cheek.

"I'd hate to lose a friend right as I make one," she said with a smile as she waved at him and walked towards the door.

"Goodnight Sherlock."

"Night." he told her as she gave him one last smile and walked out the door and down the stairs to her own flat.

Sherlock listened to her open, shut, and lock her door below him.

His eyes dropped down to the empty glass in his hand.

_…Friend?_

**^*(()*#)(( #(**

Kylie stepped out the door and onto Baker Street the following morning starting her daily run.

As she picked up her pace to match the fast beat to the music blaring from her iPod, her thoughts wandered to the night before.

She had solved her first case in London, with the help of the two men who lived above her and successfully started her life here. She had moved in, made two new friends, and started a new job. She was about as far away from her past as she could get, and after hanging out with John and Sherlock last night for dinner and long into the night, she was now realizing that she really could put the past behind her.

_Its still fresh Kylie. You cant let one night happen and think you are over it…_

It was true, she knew she needed time to heal. But having friends and distractions were helping her bare through it, rather than sitting in a deserted hotel room with only her thoughts and memories to haunt her.

She shook her head and kept running, pushing through the drizzle that was beginning to fall from the sky as her mind then went to her two new friends.

She had to admit, she was rather fond of John. He was kind, caring, and rather fun to be around. His past as a solider only made her feel more comfortable around the army doctor, as she loved hearing stories of the war and medicine she was so used to from her father and Uncle Duck.

His flat mate on the other hand… well, he was a different story….

She wasn't quite sure what to think of him anymore. At first, she had found him mysterious and intriguing as only a man waltzing into a flat covered in blood could do. He was brilliant; Kylie had seen that from the start, but the moment that he had mistakenly analyzed her, she had begun to have fun messing with his ego and mind. Now, that had most likely been the most fun she had had in ages, but he had begun to lash back, creating a strange sort of debate and competition between the two of them. She knew well enough to know that if she was going to dish it out, she had to be able to take it; but that hadn't stopped the bickering. As irritated and as much as he was able to get under her skin, she had found it strangely entertaining debating and arguing with him.

She still couldnt believe that that that cabbie had seriously thought them a married couple. Them….as if! If Kylie was sure of one thing, it was that Sherlock Holmes was an annoying, stubborn, egotistical, brilliant, handsome….

_…Did I really just say handsome?_

_Kylie…. Get a freaking grip._

She could NOT start thinking of her neighbor as handsome… not after what she had been through.

Sure, they had ended up working extremely well together and closed the case in record time. And, sure, they along with John, had had a wonderful dinner and evening, talking and getting to know one another as well as reflecting on old cases. And maybe, she had really enjoyed the intellectual and highly spirited debate before John had started to hand them drinks to get them to stop. And yeah, she had stayed over until late, only to go and read every inch of John's blog, becoming only more fascinated with the man upstairs.

But, if there was one thing she knew, it was that there was no way she could ever be interested in him like that… EVER.

He was her new friend… and that was what she needed right now anyway; friends. She had cut all ties with nearly all of her friends when she had left America. The last thing she needed was a way for her to be found.

Kylie shook the thoughts from her head as she finished her run and rounded back onto Baker Street, trying to catch her breath as she re-entered her flat.

As she walked into 221C and dropped her keys on to the table next to the door, her ears picked up a sound, causing her to stop dead in her tracks.

There were footsteps coming from inside the flat.

…Someone else was here…

She slowly began to reach for the drawer of the table that held her Glock, when she heard a male voice she had not heard before.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you Miss Gibbs."

A man emerged from around the kitchen dressed in a fine suit and was well groomed. The man seemed to be in his late 40's to early 50's and spoke with a smooth sounding voice. The kind of voice you have when you're involved in politics.

"It's nice to finally meet you in person," the man said smiling casually leaning on the umbrella he carried in his right hand.

"Who the hell are you and how did you get into my flat?" Kylie asked, her hand still on the drawer containing her weapon.

He frowned at her for a moment as he looked around, "Its quite obvious that I broke in don't you think?"

Kylie scoffed at the man.

Arrogant politician.

_Great, just what I need in my life after I have Mr. Ego living above me._

"Answered one question," she told him, "What's your answer to the other?"

The man smiled at her, "Who I am? Well, I would like to say I'm somewhat of a friend of one of the men upstairs."

"A friend?" Kylie said raising her eyebrows quizzically at the man before her. "I somehow doubt that."

"Well, I'm sure if you asked him he call me his enemy."

"Some how I doubt that John has enemies…"

"He fought in a war," the man answered smoothly.

"He was a doctor," she bit back, "But Sherlock on the other hand…" she trailed off and took the older man in. "Sherlock has loads of enemies from what I have heard and saw, but I dont even think you are an enemy. I'd bet you are family. Older Brother?"

The man smiled at her. "Clever girl," he told her as he smiled. "How did you deduce that?"

"The gold fleck in your eye. Sure, Sherlock has different eye color, but that same colored fleck in the same spot? You two are definitely directly related."

The man continued to smile at her before extending his hand in admiration. "Mycroft Holmes."

Kylie accepted the man's hand, "Pleasure to meet you," she stated. "But why the hell are you in my flat?"

"You have only recently arrived in London, and yet you have still spent a majority of the time in my little brother's presence."

Kylie was puzzled, "yeah… and that matters to you why?" before something clicked, "Wait, how do you know I just moved here and have been spending time with Sherlock?"

"Please Miss Gibbs," Mycroft said smiling once more, "I have connections." Then while looking around the flat he added, "It doesn't take a genius to deduce those facts."

Kylie shut her eyes in annoyance.

_Being an over-confident jackass must run in the family._

"You know what, never mind. Just why are you here?"

"I just wanted to offer you a deal."

"A deal?"

_Who the hell was this guy?_

"Yes," he said "You keep an eye on my brother and let me know what he is up to, and I will reward you with any financial means you see fit."

"Let me get this straight." Kylie said taking a moment to make sure she had heard Mycroft correctly. "You want me to spy on Sherlock for you? Your own brother."

"Essentially," Mycroft replied in the same matter-of-fact tone.

_Okay…this was a messed up family._

"Uh…no…I think I'll pass on the spy bribe," Kylie said as she then moved towards her room. "Call MI6 though, who knows James Bond maybe available."

"You joke Miss Gibbs, but I will assure you it is a firm offer."

"Well I'm firmly declining Mr. Holmes," and with that, Kylie brushed past the man and into her bedroom to shower, but before she reached it she turned back towards the man.

"I believe you can show yourself out just as you showed yourself in. Good day Mr. Holmes."

She gave him one last smile before she turned and walked into her room, shutting and locking the bedroom door behind her.

Mycroft smiled to himself. John was right, they would make quite a pair.

**Not the most exciting chapter! But different… **

**Anyhow, let me know your thoughts? **

**Review?**


	10. Chapter 10

**I apologize for the shortness of this chapter! I know its not much! But I hope you guys enjoy! Once more, a HUGE thanks to my amazing reviewers!**

Kylie sat on her living room couch, cuddled up with a large glass of wine and her laptop. She was bundled up, wearing one of her Dad's many sweatshirts that read NAVY on the front of it. It was ratty, stained, and had been worn many, many times; but it smelled like her father. Just the smell of him made her feel safe. He had protected her countless times, and Lord knows, she needed to feel safe right now.

She missed him, but she needed to keep him in the dark about somethings. It hurt her to lie to him, but it was what was best for him. Only God knew what kind of wrath would occur if he found out what had really happened. That's why she had moved to London… well, one of the reasons.

Kylie sighed to herself and took a sip of her wine, trying to stop her mind from focusing on the wounded part of herself. She really needed to figure out a way to distract herself without hanging around with the men upstairs constantly.

_New Life. New Start._

_Move on…._

She took another large drink of her wine. She just had to enjoy her saturday night alone. She had wine and a laptop with a Netflix subscription. This should really be a great saturday night.

Her laptop dinged, pulling her out of her thoughts once more as she looked at her computer.

_1 new email. _

She clicked the icon, opening up the message.

_Dr. Kyleigha Gibbs, _

_On behalf of Cambridge University, we would like to invite you to speak at the James Orville Annual Fundraising Ball on Tuesday, August the twenty-first. _

_As you may already know, the University is beginning a graduate program in the science of Anthropological studies, and your presence would be of the highest regards. We hope that you will accept our offer and also consider a position on the University staff. _

_Sincerely, _

_Jonathan L. Ropkins PhD._

Kylie sighed and ran a hand through her hair. As soon as the word had gotten out that she had left the FBI and Georgetown three weeks ago, she had been receiving job offers from every major university, offering her a job. She was young, and a relatively fresh face in the field, but she was one of the few people who had experience in police work and did not specialize in historical discoveries.

As grateful as she was for the job offers, she found teaching to be rewarding, yet boring. She thrived off cases and went into the field wanting to solve cases. She had been helping her father do it since she was ten years old. Despite the fact that he had not wanted her to work cases, he had hide crime scene photos from her, in fear that the sight of them would traumatize her, but she always found them… every time…

Kylie smiled and laughed to herself at the memory of the first tie her father had let Ducky babysit her at NCIS.

_"Uncle Duck! Uncle Duck!" the little girl cried excitedly running into the NCIS morgue a book of fairy tales in tow._

_"Kyleigha my dear!" the older gentleman said walking over to the girl. "What have you brought me to read to you today?"_

_"Book of Fairy tales!" the little girl said excitedly. "Will you read me one Uncle Duck?"_

_"Of course dear." The man said. "Let me just make a cup of tea first."_

_The little girl went over to the desk chair and waited patiently for the older man to make his tea in the other room when she noticed the gurney on the other side of the room that contained a large, long lump covered by a white sheet. The girl was intrigued. Seeing Ducky had walked into the office attached to the morgue, she walked over to the lump._

_"So Kyleigha, which story are we going to read….Oh dear.." Ducky walked back into the room, cup of tea in hand and what he saw amazed him and made his heart stop all at once. The 7 year old had found a stool and was now examining the body of the soldier on the table. Granted the man on the slab had very little tissue left on his body and was mainly just skeletal remains, but it was still something a 7 year old should not be looking at._

_Jethro was going to kill him_

_"Uncle Duck?" The little girl said turning towards him, "what happened to this man's skin?"_

_"Kyleigha dear, don't look at that." The older man said walking over to where the girl stood._

_"Why not?" the little girl said puzzled, "This is what is inside of all of us isn't it?"_

_"Well yes, these are what your bones look like."_

_"Oh." The girl then took a minuet to survey what lay before her. She then turned to him and asked with curiosity, "can you teach me?"_

_Ducky smiled to himself. The body did not disturb the girl at all, she just wanted to learn._

_Leroy Jethro Gibbs walked out of the elevator to find his friend and his 7-year-old daughter looking at the victim of his latest case._

_"Kylie." He said sharply giving the girl and hid friend his infamous 'Gibbs' stare._

_His daughter turned and saw him. As soon as she laid eyes on him, her entire face lit up. She ran over to him to give him a hug,_

_"Daddy! Uncle Duck is teaching me what's inside of my body! Come look!" With that, the excited girl dragged her Dad over to the gurney where she proceeded to show him all the bones and shockingly named them correctly._

_Upon seeing his daughter light up, Leroy Jethro Gibbs softened. How could he not?_

A knock on the door of 221C brought Kylie out of her thoughts.

Her breath caught in her throat. She wasn't expecting anyone.

Her hand found the Glock that was sitting on the coffee table as she got up.

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

The knocking on the door increased once more before going silent.

She slowly stood up, gun in her hand, as she crept towards the door.

_He couldn't have found her…. she had made sure to cover her tracks…_

_KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK_

Kylie put her hand on the door and took a breath as she removed the safety on the gun.

She took a breath and unlocked the door, preparing herself for the worst before she quickly turned the knob and flub open the door, pointing the gun at the knocker.

A dark haired, scarf-clad Sherlock stood there looking at her quizzically as he raised an eyebrow at the fact that she was pointing a gun at him.

"Happy to see me?" he asked flatly as he slowly reached up and put two fingers on the top of her weapon, gently telling her to lower it out of his face.

She obliged as it finally hit her that it was Sherlock standing in front of her.

"Sherlock!" she said in surprise as she forced her body to relax and lowered her weapon, "Hey! sorry for the… you know…"

"You surprise all your house guests like that?" he asked, cocking an eye brow at her.

She opened up her mouth to respond before he held up a pack of files bound together.

"We have a case," he interrupted as he pressed past her and into the flat.

_"_Yeah…." Kylie said shutting her eyes in annoyance, "Sure, come on in. Make yourself at home…"

She glanced back before poking her head out the door and making sure that no one else had followed him, before shutting, and locking the door.

Sherlock did not miss the motion, but chose not to say anything as he sat on the couch and noted an email pulled up on her laptop.

Her body relaxed completely as she locked the door and set the gun down on the table before walking over to him.

Kylie raised an eyebrow at him as he had made himself right at home on her couch.

"Where's John?" she asked.

"Date," he responded flatly.

"So where's Lestrade? And where's the crime scene?" she asked him.

"Lestrade wasn't even on the force when these murders occurred and each of the crime scenes have been released already." Sherlock replied in a monotonous voice.

"It's a cold case?" Kylie asked slowly.

"Yes"

"You want me to help you solve a cold case? With no body and no crime scene to go off of?"

"Yes"

"Right… Does Lestrade know about this?"

"It wasn't his case."

She sat down and picked up the files, flipping through them before looking at him once more.

"Sherlock, did you steal these files?"

"They're public property," he replied matter-of-factly. "I borrowed it, just like a library book. Those are public property."

Kylie just stared at him in exasperation. "You do realize that that is a crime."

Sherlock just shrugged at her, "Like Lestrade will arrest me for it."

She looked at him and shook her head before looking back at the file, seeing nothing significant about the case.

"Why on earth did you steal this by the way? Is there something meaningful behind these to you?"

"I'd thought it would be fun."

"Fun?" Kylie asked, not knowing how to respond to the man anymore.

"Yes fun," he said quickly grabbing the next file and holding it out to her to accept. "I think you'll find it quite interesting."

Kylie gave him a look "You were bored weren't you?" and with that she took the file. After scanning it she looked back up at the man, puzzled.

"Neither of these bodies were recovered! Sherlock there's no case. This woman and the boy could have just run away!

She picked up the last file, glancing at it before she turned to him in exasperation, "None of the bodies were recovered."

"Precisely." Sherlock said with a smile.

"Sherlock, there's no proof of a crime."

"Oh but there is," he said as he leaned back into the couch, "The victims are all linked."

"Linked?" Kylie said rescanning the files, "How? The first supposed victim was a 60-year-old woman form Sussex; the second a teenager from London, and the third is an American businessman. Where on earth are you finding a link?"

"That's where you are going to help me." Sherlock said a smile beginning to form on his face.

"How?" Kylie asked confused as ever, "I'm a forensic anthropologist. There's no body, no crime scene, no witnesses, no crime? What's the link?"

He leaned towards her on the couch, looking her dead in the eye as a grin spread out on his face.

"You are."

**Short… I know… **

**Review?**


	11. Chapter 11

**Massive thanks to my incredible Reviewers! You guys are seriously amazing! Thanks so much!**

"You are."

Silence fell over the flat as Kylie just stared at Sherlock, trying to digest the information.

"What?" she asked in shock.

This didn't make sense; not at all. How were three 'murders', with little to no proof that they were actually crimes or murders, that occurred in Britain, linked to her while she was in Washington DC? She had no idea… at all.

"How…?" Kylie got out as she shut her eyes and tried to wrap her mind around how this man had lost it so badly in such a short amount of time, "How on earth do these three people correlate back to me?"

Sherlock rolled his eyes and sighed with exasperation, "Dont you see? Its right in front of you! Look at the file, actually look at it."

Kylie looked at him for a moment before looking back down at the file and flipping through it one more time, only gaining the knowledge that the teenager had a pet dog named Scooter, who also went missing along with him. Other than that… she didn't see anything she hadn't seen before.

…just missing people…

"Yeah… still not following."

"The dates Kylie, look at the dates."

She frowned and looked back down at the file.

"The woman went missing four years ago, the teenager three, and and American last year."

Sherlock just looked at her, waiting for her to fill in the blanks.

She looked back at him, waiting for an answer.

"So… the link?"

"Seriously?" Sherlock asked, looking at her, "I thought you were clever?"

"Thanks, I'll try not to be offended by that."

"You were in Britain at the exact same time these people disappeared, giving guest lectures, and lectures at conferences. Each person went missing within three days after you spoke," Sherlock finally laid out for her.

Kylie stared at him for a moment before she looked down at the dates, trying to remember when she had been in Britain.

"How did you know that?" she asked, "I dont even remember when I was lecturing over here."

Sherlock shifted awkwardly on the couch as he stared at the fire for a second.

"You spoke in the UK three times. Twice at Cambridge and once at Edinburgh," he continued quickly, trying to cover up how he had made the connection.

"Yes, but how did you…?"

"Do you remember anything strange that happened at the lecture? Anyone who asked anything that alarmed you? Perhaps someone who attended all three?"

"How…?"

"Did you, Kylie?" he asked more firmly, causing her to drop her question and think about his.

Kylie thought back. They had all been extremely typical lectures as far as she could remember. Nothing out of the ordinary. Just her lectures and answering kids questions.

"No," she said quietly, "Nothing stood out. I just lectured and answered questions the audience had."

"Any specific questions stand out to you?" he asked more gently, which he knew was atypical for him.

She thought for a moment, staring at her half-filled glass of wine she had been enjoying.

"Not really. Just the three usual types."

"What are the usual types?" Sherlock asked.

"I usually get three types of people at my lectures. The studious ones who usually ask the osteology questions, the ones who try to prove I'm making it all up and its a magic trick, and the ones who always ask about certain things that leave evidence behind."

She saw Sherlock stiffen and completely straighten his posture as he turned completely towards her.

"Like how to murder someone and not get caught?" he asked with a sparkle in his eye.

"Yeah, I guess. But I never answer them. I'm not going to give people a how to manual to commit murder," she replied, running a hand through her hair out of stress.

Sherlock was quiet for a moment as he leaned back into the couch as he brought his hands together and pressed them to his lips in an almost 'thinking stance'.

Kylie looked at him for a moment, before looking back at the files.

Were these people's disappearances really linked to her? Was this her fault?

Sherlock straightened so quickly, it made Kylie jump slightly in fright.

"Recordings?" he inquired as his eyes connected with hers, "Are there recordings of your lectures?"

"Uh… yeah. Cambridge recorded the two I did when I was there as a part of their continuing education program…"

A smile covered the detective's face, "Perfect!" he said, clapping his hands together, "A killer inspired by lectures. Its strange, but its new!" he exclaimed as he stood up and re-buttoned his jacket.

He was nearly to the front door when he didn't hear her behind him. He found himself frowning and back tracking to see why she wasn't leaping up to join him on the case.

Sherlock frowned even more when he looked at her face. She was staring at the files, guilt and hurt eating at her visibly.

"You… er… coming?" he asked awkwardly. He wasn't good at dealing with sad looking people and from hearing about it enough from John, he knew he had to tread carefully.

"Do you really think that I may have inspired a killer?" she asked him softly, "That these three people may be dead, because of me?"

"You didn't kill them," he told her.

"Yes, but I put the wheels in motion. Every single time I was here, a new person went missing. I taught someone how to murder correctly."

Sherlock felt himself sitting back down on the couch; not really knowing why or how his body was moving, or how he had gained patience to talk to the anthropologist when he could be racing towards the last train out to Cambridge.

"You were giving a lecture; teaching the next generation of professionals, and maybe even inspiring some into the field. You were not the one who took those people, nor harmed them, nor instructed anyone to do so. You do not have control of the actions of others, no matter how much better off they would be if you did."

She looked at him, her bright blue eyes shining as she fought tears.

"This was not your fault," he told her firmly, wondering who in the hell he had become.

Kylie gave him a small smile as a single tear dropped out of her shining eyes.

_God… she really was absolutely gorgeous…_

Sherlock mentally slapped himself. He could not have these feelings. He was not… emotional…

"Come on. Grab your coat," he said, jumping up quickly, trying to cover his own thoughts, "Let's go get those tapes and catch us a killer."

"Sherlock, its late! Its nearly 8:45. There probably aren't any more trains out…"

"Last one is a nine," he told her flatly, "We can find a way back."

She stared at him in amazement of having the train schedule memorized.

"We cant just show up, no one will be there!"

"I have a guy who owes me a favor," he told her, "Now, will you change into some real clothes so we can catch this train?"

Kylie looked down at what she was wearing, "Right… yeah…" she said before getting up immediately and walking into her bedroom.

***&#*( #( ***

Twenty minutes, and some slight bickering later, the pair of them were sitting on a comfortably uncrowded train to Cambridge. They had been sitting in silence as Sherlock was texting someone and Kylie was watching while lost in her own thoughts.

This went on for a few moments until Kylie remembered something.

She leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees as she looked at him, with a smile.

"I just realized something," she told him, causing him to look at her and pocket the phone, "You never answered my question."

"What question?"

"How on earth did you know that I had been lecturing in the UK when all three of the disappearances happened. I mean I didn't even remember the dates…."

He shifted; blatantly uncomfortable with the question, which just caused Kylie to smile more.

"How did you make the link in the first place?"

"I googled the dates," he lied simply.

"Bull," she said immediately, "I don't have a bio page nor a resume posted online, so a search engine would have never cumulated those together with myself as the link.

He stared at her, clearly expecting her to by the lie.

"How?" she asked.

"You know how," he muttered as a blush began to creep up his neck.

Kylie's grin widened. Though she hadn't known him long, she could tell that Sherlock Holmes was not one to be embarrassed easily, despite the fact that he covered it well with a stony expression.

"I want to hear you say it," she smiled at him.

"Don't be absurd."

"Why? Can't you make a girls day?" she grinned, "Come on. Admit it."

"Fine," he snapped, "I was looking you up. You happy?"

"Oh yes," she smiled as his blush began to spread into his cheeks, "You just happened to be 'looking me up' and made the connection to the three seemingly random case files that you stole from the Yard?"

"Yes, have you ever heard of a coincidence?" he said moodily.

"Of course, but I don't believe in them."

He just looked at her; trapped.

"Why were you looking me up?" she grinned at him.

"I needed to see if you were actually competent if we were going to be working together," he told her simply.

"Well, haven't you already deduced that since we have worked together for a whole case already? I mean you already told me you thought I was clever."

Sherlock clenched his jaw at his own stupidity.

_Why did he open his mouth?_

"I had to be sure it wasn't just beginners luck," he wrote off.

"Uh-huh," Kylie said sarcastically as she smiled at him, enjoying his embarrassment.

Sherlock just stared at her, wishing the woman would stop smiling at him like that. His face was burning and he hated it.

"You finished?" he snapped.

"Oh, far from it," she smiled back.

"You looked me up too," he argued back, "I'm sure you read John's blog by now."

"Only because I had to prepare for my first fan club meeting," she told him.

His face fell.

"Oh, GOD! Not you too? For God's sake, why in the hell do people care?"

"You and John are both attractive men. John's a war hero, and you are a genius," Kylie explained simply, "If you guys had a band, you'd beat out those One Direction children in pantie peeling."

Sherlock stared at her, completely bewildered by that sentence.

Silence.

"Panties peel?"

**LIttle goofy…. Anyhow…**

**Review? Please?**


	12. Chapter 12

**Another HUGE thanks to my amazing reviewers and readers. I am so excited that you guys are enjoying it! Please feel free to let me know your thoughts. I am pretty good about responding to PMs! **

**Anyhow, enjoy!**

Kylie stepped out of the cab that they had caught from the train station, to the university, and into the night air. She gazed at the beautiful brink building in front of her.

It was now the dead of night. She had hoped to be asleep by now, though she doubted her thoughts would have let her, but a small part of her was disdainful that she was here.

_Being with another human being and not by yourself with a bottle of wine, netflix, and your thoughts is much better….despite the fact that you are the factor linking these disappearances…_

Sherlock had dragged her out here, to a deserted looking campus, to find a recording of herself lecturing, convinced the clues needed to figure this out were in there.

…This was semi-absurd… No wonder John looked exhausted all the time…

Sherlock's argument that she was link was convincing, but the stubborn part of her brain was trying to convince herself that it wasn't her; that these people had just disappeared and this was all a crazy conspiracy theory.

…It couldn't be her fault that these people were dead. She did not need or want that on her plate at the moment.

She heard the door of the cab shut before it drove off, just as Sherlock walked up beside her, pulling her from her thoughts.

"Let's go get those tapes shall we?" Sherlock said as he began to walk away and towards the building ahead, Kylie following close behind.

"Its not going to be open!" she argued, "Its nearly eleven!"

"I told you," he said, not slowing his pace, "I know someone who owes me a favor."

Sherlock then turned and opened the surprisingly open door to the building, holding it for Kylie to enter first.

Kylie looked at the door and frowned in puzzlement. What university left their doors open at 11 at night?

"How does he owe you a favor?" Kylie asked after stepping into the building.

"This man saved my life," said a voice from behind Kylie.

Kylie turned to see an older man pushing himself up from the bench in the hall he was sitting on. He was wearing a suit, a wrinkled on at that. It looked to Kylie as if the man had been wearing the suit all day and had not had a chance to change. The man walked over to Kylie and extended his hand.

"Howard Presswater."

"Kylie Gibbs," she said accepting the man's hand.

"I was able to prove that Mr. Presswater here did not murder his wife, but was unconscious in the other room," Sherlock said as he walked over to the man.

"I used to be an addict." he told Kylie, looking slightly ashamed. "I was high and passed out. If I hadn't met Sherlock here, I'd still be in jail and I'd still be an addict."

He gave Sherlock a small smile before hugging the younger man. "My wife was the one who got me hooked. She'd still be alive if we were both clean. Sherlock was the one who got me to clean up my act."

Kylie looked at Sherlock in bewilderment. Had he really been able to talk an addict into going to rehab? It seemed uncharacteristic. She would imagine he would solve the case and be on his way, not stay around and help to fix people's lives…

"Well Howard," Sherlock said to the older man, bringing Kylie out of her thoughts once more, "Let's find these tapes now shall we?"

"Of course. This way." Mr. Presswater said as he beckoned them to follow.

He then lead the pair down a series of corridors before stopping at a door labeled RECORDS.

"The tapes and records are all labeled by department and date." Mr. Presswater informed them as he unlocked and opened the door, pointing out the never-ending rows of VHS tapes and DVDs. "There's a computer and DVD and tape player in the corner. I'm afraid the files have not been digitized yet."

"Thanks Howard." Sherlock said as he walked into the room and removed his scarf.

"For you, anything," the man told him sincerely before giving Kylie one last smile and left them with the massive amounts of VHS and DVDs.

Kylie looked around the room and all the tapes around her. Sherlock had already begun walking down the aisles in search of the lectures. She ran a hand through her hair and sighed to herself as she removed her scarf and made herself a bit more comfortable.

She had been hoping to catch up on sleep, and now she was slowly realizing she wasn't going to get any.

**&^#* &(# **

After what seemed like hours, Sherlock and Kylie were finally sitting at the TV, fast forwarding through lectures and conferences. It turned out that Cambridge was not good at labeling and keeping records, despite their high academic reputation. It had taken them a few hours of searching before they were finally able to find the first lecture.

Sherlock pressed play on the video at its normal speed and they watched Kylie on the stage talking to the audience about the deducing facts from a body. She grimaced, she hated watching herself on tape. It was then, that she actually remembered exactly what she had talked about in this lecture.

"We don't have to watch this part," she told him, "Its a boring, typical lecture on a case I worked at the FBI and identification techniques."

"How is that boring?" Sherlock asked before he even realized it.

He saw Kylie turn her head and look at him with amusement out of the corner of his eye.

"I mean, to the killer," he quickly covered.

Kylie's grin began to spread even more before he hurriedly pressed fast forward and cleared his throat.

"Questions at the end, right?" he asked her, desperately trying to get off the topic.

She smiled and turned back to the screen as she watched herself lecture in fast forward before Sherlock finally pressed play, to hear a student asking a question.

_"Dr. Gibbs, how on earth is it possible for you to be able to deduce how the victims live? I mean I get how you can see how they were killed IF there were marks in the bone, but I still don't understand how you knew that this girl played volleyball and you knew that she died of heavy metal toxicity."_

Kylie watched herself smile on the screen and straighten her notes before answering.

_"You can tell a lot from bone. It is why you are able to move and be a solid mass. The body diffuses more materials than you think. Almost everyone forgets that bone is a living organ. It needs nutrients and blood to survive. By this girl being poisoned, you can easily tell by the build up of it in the metaphyseal plate. You can see it easily on an x-ray like this too. And as for the volleyball, her patella were dented and had signs of repair like she had dropped on them a little too hard for a couple years. Also she had a lot of repair on her tibial tuberosity suggesting the patella tendon was chronically swollen-hence patella tendonitis. The girl also had a similar repair on her right Acromium process and also surgical markers. These specific similar markers suggest a rotator cuff repair and what is known as a SLAP repair to repair the bicep tendon, labrum and rotator cuff in the shoulder. These injuries are extremely common with volleyball players, hence my deduction."_

The crowd was silent for a minuet. Before a kid in the front row raised his hand.

_"Is there anything that you can't see in bone? Like an untraceable way to kill someone."_

_Kylie paused on stage thinking of her answer. "The body is a living thing that transports everything through the blood. Sure, there are things design to beat some of the tests we do, but anyone can figure it out."_

_Another kid spoke up from another part of the room off the camera, "Then how come then cause of death is sometimes not found."_

She saw her face harden slightly.

_"I'll say this, with enough time, one can deduce the cause of any death."_

_Another voice chimed in. "How do you see electrocution in bone."_

_"That is a difficult one, you will see cell death in the osteocytes, you have to look at the entire body for other damage. If you find a body with cell death and no other damage, then your best bet on COD is electrocution."_

She frowned at the question once more before glancing at the watch on her wrist before smiling at the crowd.

_"That's unfortunately all the time I have for questions, thank you for your time and attending."_

The tape then watched the group of people packing up their things for a few minuets and then ended.

Kylie ran a hand through her hair and looked at Sherlock. He was sitting with his hands together, his index fingers pressed to his lips.

"Well, this is pretty much how both of the other lectures went. I mean this one was the last one I gave; " Kylie said checking the date on the case that it was in… not that it was correct…

Sherlock paid no attention to her; he just stared at the blank screen of the television.

Kylie sighed to herself. He was lost in his thoughts. He probably wouldn't respond to her for a bit anyhow.

She ran a hand through her hair once more as she glanced out the small window in the room. Light was starting to seep through the window next to them.

_Great we've been here all night._

She laid her head down on the desk in front of her and closed her eyes. She would kill for a cup of coffee right now. Since she had left America, sleep had just brought up memories and was nearly impossible for her. She had been living off of small naps, running, and a lot of coffee.

With another person in the room, and with that person being Sherlock, she felt safe enough to try to get some rest.

If he was just going to ignore her, she might as well get some sleep… not like she would have a choice if she kept going like this any longer. It was beginning to catch up to her and her eyes were starting to droop.

She was nearly asleep…

SLAM!

She jumped nearly a foot in the air as she was completely startled out of her blissfulness by Sherlock slamming his hands flat on the table as he stood, grabbing his jacket.

_"_What are you doing?" he asked her, "Sleeping? No time to sleep! We have a case, Kylie! Let's go. What are you waiting for?"

Kylie let out a breath and ran a hand over her face, groggily.

"What about the other tapes?" she asked.

"We have everything we need," he said as he handed her her scarf, and held out her coat to help her put it on.

She groaned lightly before standing up and allowing Sherlock to help her with her jacket, turning around to have him promptly shove her scarf at her.

"Come on, we have everything we need," he told her.

"Where are we going?" she asked as he turned to leave the room.

"Back to London," he told her as he turned to see her standing there, looking at him puzzled.

He huffed, rolled his eyes and walked back to her, grabbing her hand to get her moving as he pulled her out of the room and back towards the train station.

Almost as soon as he touched her, something shot through her body. It was small, but it was there. He stiffened as well and dropped her hand as if it had shocked him as soon as they started walking.

She saw his eyebrow furrow in confusion as they walked in silence to the train station.

_He had felt it too…_

_Must have just been static electricity…_

_Yeah… that's what it was…_

***(&#( *( )#**

John yawned and descended the stairs the following morning, walking into the kitchen to make some tea. His date had gone horribly. The girl he had taken out hadn't shut up about her cats and the strange outfits that she dressed them up in.

…that was the last time he let Stamford set him up…

He had barely gotten out of going over to her place. Granted he was single and male, he hadn't even wanted to go there. Not getting off was FAR better than walking into that commitment death trap.

He ran a hand over his face as he walked into the living room to get his laptop, but the sight of something made him stop dead in his tracks.

There, on the couch was Sherlock deep in thought as he stared at paper and pictures he had set up and arranged strategically over the fire place. Kylie was next to him on the small couch, asleep on his shoulder. Both looked like hell. Kylie's hair was unruly as if she had ran her hand through it multiple times and Sherlock was getting the slight bags under his eyes that he got whenever he was on a case.

That wasn't the strange part though. No, the weird part was that they both looked extremely peaceful.

Sherlock Holmes was not a 'touchy' person by any stretch. Touch was the one thing in fact that would pull him out of his deep, trance-like thoughts. John had been yelled at multiple times by his flatmate for bumping him while he was thinking. Which is why him allowing their new neighbor to sleep on his shoulder as so strange.

Sherlock hadn't even realized that John had woken up and come down the stairs, which was rare. Sure, his thought were were usually deep and he sometimes didn't hear him leave, but this kind of deep trance was rare for him.

John paused and fought a smile as a thought occurred to him; what if Kylie's touch was comforting to him?

It was the next most logical thing. He doubted Sherlock had ever been in a relationship, let alone been comfortable with a woman's touch. But he knew from his own personal experience and the one time he had been in love, that woman's touch had made him think clearer, feel better, and caused all of his problems to melt away. That was him though; and was a long time ago… a very long time ago.

Who knew with Sherlock though. The closest thing that that man had had to a relationship was that strange flirting game of chicken he had had with Irene Adler, and Lord knew that that was FAR from a true, not to mention healthy relationship.

Maybe this girl really was good for him…

John smirked as he pulled his phone out of his robe pocket. Sherlock hadn't noticed him yet, and would probably kill him when he did, but he _had_ to send this to Lestrade.

Blackmail was worth the risk.

SNAP

The camera on his phone clicked as he took a photo of the pair. That noise however, was enough to bring Sherlock out of his thoughts.

He sat up straight immediately, jerking forward, causing Kylie to awaken.

"What was that?!" he asked as Kylie struggled to sit up, rubbing her eyes.

"Huh?" she said, blinking a few times, missing what was going on.

John just chuckled in response to Sherlock's question, walking back into the kitchen as he sent the text to Lestrade.

If there wasn't already a pool at the Yard over the pair, there was about to be now.

"John, what was that?" Sherlock asked again.

"Nothing!" he yelled back as he laughed to himself, pouring himself a mug of tea.

"I heard something. What was that noise?" Sherlock pried again as he walked back into the room, seeing Kylie yawn and stretch languidly.

"Rough night?" John asked Kylie more than Sherlock, ignoring his prior question.

Kylie ran a hand through her hair and smiled at him tiredly.

"Yeah, you could say that," she responded, "How was your date?"

"Horrible. I'm never letting anyone set me up ever again," John said as he plopped himself in his chair with the paper.

Kylie chuckled at him as Sherlock was still staring at John incredulously.

"That noise what was that noise? Did you take a picture?"

John looked at his flatmate for a moment before smiling sarcastically at him, "Who, me? I would never do such a thing."

Kylie raised an eyebrow between the two, as Sherlock glared.

"Yeah, I obviously missed something," Kylie stated as she stood up, "I'm going to have a shower and make some breakfast. Can I bring you boys up anything?"

"No," Sherlock said moodily before turning back to staring at the wall once more, resuming his thinking pose.

"He means no thank you," John said looking up at her, "Thanks for the offer though."

She looked at Sherlock for a moment as she paused at the door.

"Right…"

"You two working a case?" he asked her, Sherlock obviously no longer truly in the room as he was lost in his thoughts.

"Yeah, well, one that Sherlock believes is a case," Kylie told him as she looked back at the dark haired detective, intrigued by watching his mind work, "Three people disappeared right after I gave lectures at Cambridge and Edinburgh. Sherlock believes that they were inspired by my lectures and there for have let no bodies, evidence, or witnesses."

"He's usually right about these thing, you know," John told her.

"I know," she said smiling sadly at the doctor, "I just hope he isn't this time. If he is, its my fault those people are dead."

John smiled at her sympathetically. He knew the feeling. It was one he had felt often on the battlefield. "You're not the one who killed them."

She laughed slightly, "Sherlock told me the same thing last night."

John looked at her in slight shock.

_Last night?_

"Email." Sherlock said suddenly whipping his head around to look at Kylie. Both John and the woman were staring at him blankly, neither of them knowing what he was talking about, "The email that was open on your laptop when I came by last night."

"What about it?" Kylie asked as John grinned at his friend.

"You just 'came by' her place last night?"

That sentence earned a glared by Sherlock and a raised eyebrow from Kylie, before Sherlock turned his attention back to Kylie.

"It was asking you to speak at Cambridge on Friday."

She looked at him, slightly taken aback that he had read her email, yet not surprised, "Yeah, but I'm not going to do it, especially after you told me you think people may be killed over it."

"You need to do it," he told her firmly.

John looked at him incredulously once more, "You just said that people were killed over her lectures…"

"Yes, she needs to speak so that we can…"

"…look for the killer at my lecture," Kylie finished for him.

"Precisely," he told her.

Kylie held her gaze with him for a moment longer, running it through in her mind.

"Okay," she agreed, shrugging slightly, "its as good a plan as any," she told them as she put her hand on the door before turning to look back at the men, "Oh, and I guess I should tell you now, that its a black tie affair. Hope you both have tuxes."

She gave them one last smile and a wave before walking out of the flat, shutting the door behind her.

John turned to look at Sherlock, shutting his paper.

"If you wanted to sake her out, just ask her out. You don't have to invent a case and an undercover job to impress her and get her to go out with you."

It was Sherlock's turn to look at her incredulously, "This IS a case John. I never invent cases. You of all people should know that," he snapped.

He sat up and rested his elbows on his knees, his sight never leaving the pictures on the fireplace, "Why on earth would I try to impress her anyways? I'm just doing my job…"

"The job you invented," John countered, getting Sherlock to take his eyes off the photos and glare at him.

"I'm not like you, John. I don't _date_," he told him with disgust before turning back to the photos.

John smirked at his friend before reopening his paper once more.

"You say that now," he muttered, "Just you wait."

**Longer Chapter! **

**Thoughts? Feelings? **

**Review!**


	13. Chapter 13

**Okay guys, one note real quick…**

**So after watching the season 3 finale… I have about forty million ideas of things to add in. So FYI, plot may change to include things that happened… wont be exact and I refuse to rehash some stuff, but plot lines and time lines may change…**

**Anyhow! HUGE thanks to my amazing reviewers! You guys are honestly the best!**

**So I accidentally deleted this chapter (got a new laptop as my old one died and I copied and pasted everything off this site before I deleted it…. and didn't get this one…) so I'm going off what I remember. Forgive me. **

**Enjoy!**

Tap tap tap tap tap tap tap tap tap tap tap tap tap tap tap tap tap tap tap tap tap tap tap

John stared at Sherlock with a combination of slight amusement, and annoyance at his flatmate's constant tapping on the table.

It was the night of Kylie's lecture and since about three in the afternoon, Sherlock had suddenly become uncharacteristically quiet and twitchy. He had been tapping a pen habitually on the table as he stared at the wall of evidence he had compiled on the wall.

They hadn't gotten much farther on the case other than developing a few aspects of the 'victims' life before they disappeared. All of which concluded with the fact that they were all happy and had no reason to run away or try to disappear off the map.

Kylie hadn't been around all day as she had to be at the Yard in the morning and fit in her run before she got ready and prepped for her lecture. It didn't show much, but John knew that Sherlock enjoyed the woman's company. Her lack of presence at the flat today was obviously bothering him… that, or he was nervous for his 'date' that was now only about a half hour away.

tap tap tap tap tap tap tap tap tap tap tap tap tap tap tap tap tap tap tap tap tap tap tap tap tap

John looked back down at his laptop and began typing up the last case once more.

"You going to shower before your date?" he asked him casually.

"Date? Its not a date," Sherlock snapped leaping up and standing in front of the fireplace, examining the pictures more closely.

John looked back up at him from his seat in the armchair.

"uh-huh," he muttered as he kept typing, "You at least need to change your clothes."

"What? Why? You haven't changed" he said, spinning to face John.

"Because I'm not going on your date. And you are trying to impress her," John told him before he stopped typing on his laptop and really looked at his friend, "You do know how to go on a date, right?"

Sherlock just stared at him silently.

"You have been on a date before?" John asked.

"Of course he hasn't, John," Mycroft said as he strolled into the flat with a smile on his face, seeing his little brother's displeasure, "That's what makes this so much more fun."

"Its _not_ a date," Sherlock said firmly, "We are attending a lecture in order to find a killer."

He paused, looking his brother up and down, "Why are you here anyhow?"

"I heard about your night tonight and I thought I'd drop by," Mycroft answered cooly as he put a hand in his pocket.

"How?" Sherlock pried.

"I have my sources," Mycroft smiled at him, enjoying this FAR too much.

Sherlock turned and glared at John. He just laughed and threw up his hands.

"Oh, no," John told him, "I didn't call him. Trust me."

Sherlock huffed, looking back at the fireplace, trying to figure out who Mycroft's source could possibly be.

"Lestrade did," John grinned as he began typing once more.

Sherlock huffed loudly and walked over to the table, sitting down once more and tapping his foot as he tried to ignore everyone else in the room.

Tap tap tap tap tap tap tap tap tap tap tap tap tap tap tap tap

"You do remember how to behave on this 'date', dear brother?" Mycroft asked.

"Not a date," he said through gritted teeth.

"Even if it's not," John inputted, "Still treat her well. You know, like a lady."

Sherlock looked at him, thoroughly confused, "What else would she be?"

"A man," Mycroft stated with a grin.

John turned and gave him a look.

"Its the twenty first century," Mycroft told him with a smile.

"She's not a bloke!" John argued.

"I know," Mycroft stated once more, "I was simply stating what else she could be."

John just gave the elder Holmes a look of exasperation before turning back to Sherlock.

"Look, just make sure to compliment her, tell her she looks beautiful, open doors for her, pull out her chair, all that stuff."

"She's giving a lecture John, this isn't a date," Sherlock argued once more.

John gave him a look before he put his hands back on his laptop to type, "Two people getting dressed up, who enjoy each other's company, and spend the evening together, is the definition of a date."

"We are going to catch a killer."

"For you, adding that into the mix, is _your_ personal definition of a date," John told him.

Sherlock got up in a huff as he made his way back to the fireplace.

"It is _not_ a date. How many times do I have to say it?"

"You fancy her."

"I do not fancy anyone."

"How come you are nervous, then?"

"I am not nervous."

"Oh really?" John asked with out looking up, "Then how come you can sit still, you are jumpy, and your hands are sweating?"

Sherlock paused and looked at his hands as if they had betrayed him.

"Its a date."

Sherlock made a noise between a huff and a growl before he stomped off towards his bedroom.

"Make sure to change your clothes!" John yelled after him before the bedroom door slammed shut.

John gave himself a self-satisfied smiled before he turned to look at Mycroft.

"You think he'll be okay on this?" John asked him.

"Heavens no," Mycroft told him lightly as he sat in the armchair, "But I do know that Miss Gibbs will not hesitate to keep him on his toes and in line."

John grinned at Mycroft as footsteps pounded up the stairs and Lestrade burst into the room, looking around.

"Oh shit," Lestrade told them as he shut the door behind him, "Did I miss them?"

"No," John told him, "Kylie hasn't come up yet, and Sherlock is throwing a fit in his room."

SLAM

Something heavy was dropped in Sherlock's room at suspiciously those words.

"YOU ARE ACTING LIKE A CHILD! MAN UP AND TAKE THE GIRL OUT ON A REAL DATE!" John yelled at him.

THUMP THUMP

The bedroom door opened and Sherlock stepped out, wearing a new shirt and suit, which made John grin at him, annoying the detective even more.

"Lets get a few things straight," he began to say angrily before Lestrade caught his eye, "oh GOD! What are you doing here?"

"Came to see you off on your date," Lestrade said as he grinned at him.

Sherlock looked up and shut his eyes, nearly shaking with anger, before he stomped forward.

"This, is not a date. This is a case. I am not like you all. I. Don't. Date."

"Then how come you changed?" John asked.

Sherlock looked at him, "You told me to," he told him, "Isnt this what I am supposed to do?"

"But the fact that you did it, brother dear, is what shows that you care about making an impression on the girl," Mycroft stated with a smile.

Sherlock's face fell, much to Lestrade, Mycroft, and John's pleasure before there was a knock on the door.

"And that, must me Kylie," John said as he got up and opened the door.

John couldn't help but let his breath caught in his throat at the sight of his neighbor.

"Holy Mary," he muttered as he looked her up and down.

Kylie blushed and fidgeted slightly as she smiled at him.

She was dressed in a tight, figure hugging ball gown that flaunted her athletically toned body. The dress was a bright blue, that accented her eyes beautifully. Her hair had been curled and pinned back, showing her beauty for what it truly was.

"What?" Kylie smiled at him, trying to recover from her embarrassment and hiding it well, "You boys never seen a girl in a dress before?"

"Just not an attractive anthropologist," Lestrade inputed.

She looked at him, and then to Mycroft before sighing and looking at John, "You told them we were going on a date, didn't you? Thats why you aren't dress. You aren't going?"

"I'm not crashing your date," John told her with a smile.

"And we wouldn't miss this for the world," Lestrade grinned.

Kylie looked at them before rolling her eyes and putting her hand on her hip, "Seriously? We are working a case. This isn't prom? And this most definitely isn't a date. He didn't ask me out, and I most definitely wouldn't come to pick him up and take him to my own lecture if it was. We are going to catch a killer, you all were invited to come along, but you blew this all out of proportion in your minds. So stop giggling about this like teenage girls and come back down to earth…."

Silence.

"Right Sherlock?" Kylie asked, finally taking her eyes off John and looking at Sherlock.

The rest of the men in the room turned to look at him as he didn't respond, all having to fight a smile at his reaction.

The detective was speechlessly staring at her, completely oblivious to the fact that she was talking to him.

"Sherlock?"

Sherlock straightened and cleared his throat as he fought a blush from creeping up his neck before he grabbed his jacket off the table.

"Precisely what I have been telling them," he said as he walked over to her, motioning for her to walk down the stairs before him. He looked back at the men in the room as he grabbed the door handle, "Dont wait up." he said before he shut the door a little harder than necessary.

Silence.

"Yeah, that will go well," John said as he was still staring at the door.

"I don't know whether to laugh or be jealous that the man everyone thinks is a psychopath and has no social graces has a hotter date than any of us," Lestrade said bitterly as he shook his head.

John laughed and looked at his computer. It was true. They really all should be jealous of Sherlock Holmes at the moment, but one thing stuck in John's mind.

…the way his best friend had been looking at her.

He _never_ had had a woman's appearance throw him off his game.

Irene? Maybe? But she had been naked. That would throw any man with a pulse off his game, even Sherlock.

It was strange, but maybe Sherlock wasn't as oblivious to his attraction to her as he had thought…?

**Short, again… sorry.. **

**Thoughts? feelings? review?**


	14. Chapter 14

**A HUGE thanks to all my amazing reviewers! I am so glad that you guys are enjoying it!**

**Enjoy!**

Sherlock shut the front door of 221 and looked ahead to see Kylie standing on the curb, wrapping her dress jacket around her as she looked for a cab. Upon hearing the door shut, she turned and looked at him, giving him a glowing smile.

_God, she really did look stunning…_

_Dear LORD! Snap out of it!_

"You ready to catch a killer?" Kylie asked turning her attention back to the street.

"Of course," he replied as he walked up next to her and shifted awkwardly, "You… Um… look very lovely," Sherlock said awkwardly, as he kept his eyes on the street.

Kylie turned and smiled at him, a curious smirk on her face.

"Thanks," she said giving him the once over, "You don't look too bad yourself."

Sherlock turned and gave her a strange look as she smirked even more, looking back at the street.

"I'm just shocked you actually put on a clean suit," she smiled as a cab pulled up.

She stepped into it, leaving a slightly stunned Sherlock behind. He felt a small smile spread out over his face before he followed her in.

***&#(#() **

Kylie threw her head back and laughed with Sherlock as they sat in the cab they had caught from the train station.

"I think I would have paid to see that," Kylie laughed, "I may have to use that against him if he breaks into my flat again."

Sherlock chuckled once more beside her, "Call him Mike. It drives him up a wall."

"Oh, I'll definitely do that," Kylie grinned next to him, "And take a spy bribe on you."

"We'll split the fee," Sherlock told her.

They smiled at each other in silence before they both busted up laughing once more.

The cab slowed and pulled over to the station. Sherlock fished a few bills out of his pocket, paying the driver as Kylie hopped out of the cab, stepping out into the cool air once more, seeing the University spread out in front of her.

"Ready?" Sherlock asked as he began to walk forward.

"Yeah," she said as she fell into step with him, her heels clacking on the ground, "What's the plan?"

"You lecture, I look for the killer, and once the main ball begins, we follow them and gather evidence," Sherlock said simply.

"Oh, thats it?" Kylie asked as he held the building door open for her, "And here I was expecting some elaborate plan using a blow dart, a slipper, and careful mathematical calculation."

Sherlock gave her a strange look once more before she grinned and turned back to look at him.

He covered up a smile as he caught up with her, walking towards the ball room, "That's plan B," he joked.

"Oh," Kylie stated with amusement, "I thought you'd want to show off."

"The simplest answer is usually the correct one," he stated as they approached the door.

"Occam's razor," she smiled, "I like the way you think Mr. Holmes."

"You should," he chided, "I do know science a whole lot better than you do."

Kylie stopped and glared at him, causing him to smile at her over his shoulder. She laughed bitterly and shook her head at him before they entered the ballroom together.

As soon as they entered the room, they saw a man dressed in a tux and bow tie yelp excitedly before running over to them.

"Oh Dr. Gibbs!" the man that Kylie knew as Dr. Jonathan Rompkins ran over and shook her hand, "The woman of the hour!" he gushed. "I have to tell you that we are SO happy that you agreed to speak tonight… and hopefully take a position here at Cambridge?" he added coyly.

Kylie gave him a smile, "I told you Dr. Rompkins, I have taken a full time position with Scotland Yard."

"Yes, but a man can hope we can get a brilliant and beautiful anthropologist like yourself to head up our newest department," Dr. Rompkins smiled at her. It was only when Kylie blushed and didn't respond that he noticed Sherlock standing next to her.

"Ah, you must be her… boyfriend?" he guessed, looking for a ring.

"Oh, no…" Kylie laughed, waving her hand, "He's not my…"

"Pleasure," Sherlock said, shaking Dr. Rompkin's hand with a warm smile that Kylie was not aware that he was capable of giving.

The older man surveyed the pair of them, his gray eyes analyzing the pair. "I wasn't aware that you were bringing a date, Dr. Gibbs."

Kylie opened her mouth to comment, but Sherlock beat her to it. "Yeah you know this one, always trying to be humble. She claims that this isn't a big deal, but in the end, she asked me to come an support her," he said as he snaked an arm around her waist pulling her tightly to him.

Kylie heart began to beat like a congan drum at the closeness to Sherlock.

_Keep your head straight, Kylie._

"I think she was nervous," Sherlock added looking down at the woman in his arms, "Though she'd never admit it."

Kylie glanced at Sherlock taking the hint to play along as she tried not to shiver from the sensation of his fingers on her bare skin, "Yes, I'm afraid these lectures get the better end of my nerves." Kylie stated smiling at Dr. Rompkins.

The man smiled at the pair, "Well, you make a lovely couple. You are a very lucky man, Mr…"

"Holmes," he said with a smile, "And that I really am."

Rompkins gave them one last smile and turned around. As soon as his back was turned, both dropped their smiles and rolled their eyes, pulling away from each other.

Rompkins turned around once more to look back at them, causing Kylie and Sherlock to replaster smiles on their faces.

"Come on then," he smiled at them.

They walked forward, following Rompkins to a stage that had been set up in the middle of the ball room. The The room was eloquently decorated and there were already numerous guests that had arrived and were talking amongst themselves.

"You'll be lecturing here," Dr. Rompkins said, "we will be inviting you up on stage to speak near seven."

"Alright." Kylie said agreeing.

"Do you have any visuals?"

"Yes," Kylie said digging through her handbag and pulling out a flash drive and handing it to him.

Dr. Rompkins smiled and accepted the flash drive. "Very well Dr. Gibbs. I look forward to hearing you speak." He then turned to Sherlock, "Pleasure meeting you."

Sherlock gave him a smile as he walked away. Kylie turned to look at the clock, "Well, its only six o'clock now, what should we do _dear_?" Kylie asked glaring as she emphasized the last part.

"We're undercover," Sherlock retorted as he looked around. "I had to come up with a reason to be escorting you without looking suspicious."

"You couldn't have though of any platonic ways that dont prove John right?" Kylie asked through the gritted teeth of a fake smile as she saw another Cambridge staff member coming up to her.

"John doesn't need to find out about this," Sherlock told her, "He gets annoying when he thinks he's right."

The night went on of Kylie being bombarded by staff members, famous anthropologists, and donors. Sherlock however was able to escape for a few moments to survey the audience.

No one stood out to him right away. There was a French couple here, probably donors. They were wealthy, but they looked concerned. Probably based on the fact they had a son who was trying to gain entrance to the school. He had gotten that from the cafeteria stamp on his left hand. They were trying to by the son's entrance into the program. Not the killer.

There were a couple of History professors, biology professors, and Cambridge staff all attending. Sherlock doubted any of these people were the killers. He sighed to himself, they were going to have to wait until Kylie spoke to get any leads.

He didn't have to wait much longer before Dr. Rompkin's walked up on the stage and turned on the microphone. "Excuse me Ladies and Gentlemen." The voices in the ballroom faded away before he began to speak, "As you all know, we are here tonight to raise money and promote our new Graduate program in forensic anthropology. To tell you more about this profession and what is studied along with it is one of the most well-respected forensic anthropologist's around, Dr. Kyliegha Gibbs."

The crowd clapped as Kylie walked up on stage kissing Dr. Rompkins on the cheek before taking the podium.

"Thank you," Kylie said into the microphone. "The field of forensic anthropology is one that as of right now is quiet small. We do need more schools to offer education and graduate programs in this field. Forensic anthropologists are scientists who look at human remains, mainly the skeletal system to help identify victims and gather evidence of a crime." Kylie then looked down at the computer in front of her and the screen lit up behind her, showing the body from her first case in London.

"During my first case in the UK, I was asked to look at the body that you can see in front of you right now. Now, I was able to identify the body based on the race, sex, injuries, remodeling, and tissue markers on the body. "

Kylie then went on to describe the science by which she was able to deduce who the victim was and how she was killed. During this time, Sherlock was searching the crowd for the killer. He didn't see anyone that stuck out until he heard Kylie asked, "Are there any questions?"

A wealthy looking gentlemen in the front row raised his hand.

"Yes?" Kylie said pointing to the man.

"How on earth are you able to tell the race of a victim? Let alone identify their age?"

Kylie smiled, "That is an excellent question. You see, each race has identifying facial bone makers that help us identify the race." Kylie pulled up a slide, "For example, we can tell by the width of check bones, nasal cavity, and orbital cavity." Kylie pointed it out on the screen with a laser.

"Yes, but Dr., how is one able to determine all this if the body has been destroyed completly?"

Sherlock's head whipped around to see who asked the question. It was a man in his early fifties. He looked to be extremely wealthy, wearing a Westwood suit worth at least 800 pounds . His salt and pepper hair sculpted perfectly as he smiled at Kylie like the cat who ate the canary.

This had to be him.

Kylie paused for a moment looking at him, her eyes flitting to Sherlock before answering, "There are many things we can still read from a body that one has thought they had destroyed. Hell we can still get evidence from ashes. If someone commits a murder, I will promise you this; we WILL catch them."

The room was silent and the man just stood there smirking at her.

This was definitely the guy.

Feeling the tension in the room Dr. Rompkins came back up onto the stage.

"Ah well, thank you Dr. Gibbs! Ladies and gentlemen, that concludes our lecture portion of the night, I hope you enjoy the rest of the evening"

Kylie pressed past Rompkins, leaving the stage as fast as she could to get to Sherlock.

"That has to be him," she said trying to keep track of where he was in the now crowded room as soon as she got over to him.

Sherlock was about to answer when guest began to bombard her once more with questions.

"That was such a lovely lecture!"

"How on earth do you notice all of that?"

"Excuse me ladies and gentlemen," Sherlock said taking Kylie by the hand, "I was promised a dance by my lovely girlfriend."

Sherlock then led her to the dance floor, putting a hand on her hip and beginning to dance to the music.

"Thank you," Kylie said. She was eternally thankful that he had pulled her away from the rest of guest.

"You're welcome," Sherlock said smiling at her for a moment or two as they danced to the music.

_His eyes are so blue._

Sherlock suddenly broke eye contact.

"Keep your eyes on him." Sherlock told her quietly.

She looked around for the man as they danced, her eyes finally finding him as he leaned up against the wall staring her down; smirking.

Sherlock felt her tighten his grip on shoulder slightly.

"God, he's a creep," she muttered to him.

Sherlock pulled her tighter to him as he turned her so that he was now staring at the man.

"Good thing we are going to bring him down now, isn't it?" he told her quietly fighting the feeling that was erupting from within him with her this close.

He couldn't explain it, but he felt the need to pull her tighter to him as she was slightly afraid of the man across the room; trying to keep her out of harms way.

He felt the need to protect this woman. Sure, he had been raised to never allow a woman to be hurt in his presence, but there was something different about this woman.

_Damn John for putting thoughts in his head…_

_Thats all this was; thoughts that John had implanted. Not feelings. He didn't have feelings. _

He felt Kylie stiffen for a slight moment before slowly relaxing in his arms.

"We still need to find out who he is," she said quietly in his ear.

Sherlock's mind ran a million miles a minute as he calculated their best possibility to figure out the man's identity.

He stopped dancing and pulled away, looking at Kylie.

"I have a plan. Follow my lead."

**SHort again… sorry guys.. I'm following my old chapters as a sort of outline, and all my chapters were super short back then… so sorry.**

**Anyhow, **

**Review?**


	15. Chapter 15

**A HUGE thanks to all of my amazing reviewers! I always appreciate the moment or two you take to write down your thoughts on the chapter!**

**I combined two chapters, so its a bit longer!**

**Enjoy!**

Sherlock pulled Kylie off the dance floor by the hand, gently leading her towards the smirking man.

_Play along… _

"Excuse me," Sherlock said in his sickly sweet voice that he only used for faking personalities, "My girlfriend here was a little harsh on you during the lecture, and…"

"I just wanted to apologize, it was an extremely viable question. I felt that I was a tad bit harsh on you when I was answering it," Kylie jumped in trying to act sincerely, "Mr….?"

"Weatherly, Donald Weatherly," the man told her while extending his hand, "I can understand the stress you are under with your cases Dr. Gibbs. I can see how that can get to you after a while."

Kylie reached out and shook his hand, fighting the urge to vomit, forcing a smile on her face, "Once again, I apologize. I was completely unjust in the way that I answered your question."

The man smirked at her once more as he let go of her hand and she stepped back towards Sherlock, trying to discretely put distance between them and Weatherly.

The man looked her up and down before loping at Sherlock, "You are a lucky man, my friend. I have to say, she is quite beautiful."

Sherlock put his arm around her waist, pulling her in tight to his body, making her heart race out of control.

"She's my everything," he said with a smile and a sickeningly sweet tone.

Kylie stiffened and tried not to show her surprise on her face. This was NOT the man that she had been getting to know during these few weeks.

"Well dear," Kylie said with a smile, looking at Sherlock, "Don't you think we should be off?"

"Yes. You're right. We should be off," Sherlock said as he began to pull Kylie away from the man even further, "It was lovely meeting you."

"What? So early?" Mr. Weatherly replied.

"Yes, I'm afraid we live in London, so he have to catch a train back. Not to mention we are leaving to go visit my father tomorrow morning," Kylie quickly lied, "So we really should be heading off."

The man smirked and took a step closer to the pair, speaking in a soft and menacing voice.

"I wouldn't lie to me if I were you Dr. Gibbs."

Kylie frowned at him as a chill ran through her body.

"I'm sorry?"

"You think that now that you have combined forces with the amazing Sherlock Holmes, that you two can solve any crime. But I promise you, you wont be able to solve this one."

Kylie just stared at him as she felt Sherlock stiffen and straighten beside her.

"I have spent my whole life trying to create the perfect crime. And at last, I have mastered it. Back off, or someone you care about may get hurt," the man continued.

She didn't flinch, but held her ground.

"Is that a threat?"

The man chuckled and smiled at the pair menacingly, "No Dr. Gibbs, that's a promise."

Without another word, the man walked away, disappearing into the crowd.

Kylie and Sherlock stood there in silence for a moment, trying to wrap their minds around what had just happened.

"Well," Kylie said once she had gathered her consciousness back, "You think we have enough evidence now?"

"I believe we do," Sherlock muttered before he turned to her, "Go grab your things, we need to go."

She nodded and hurried over to the stage where she nearly had to bat off people as she grabbed her clutch and her flash drive before gathering her jacket.

Sherlock pushed his way through the crowd, helping her grab her stuff and brushing off people quickly.

"I apologize ladies and gentlemen, but my girlfriend isn't feeling well and, please, we just need to get home," he said as he pushed through the crowd, grabbing Kylie by the hand once more.

Despite that, the pair were stopped every two feet by someone trying to get them to stay and talk longer. After about thirty minutes, Mr. Weatherly was long gone and they were finally able to make it outside.

"Dammit," Sherlock muttered as he looked around, looking for any sign of Weatherly.

"We lost him, but at least we have his name. We can start to look for him based on that," Kylie told him as she put on her jacket.

"We could have gotten more out of him though," he said angrily, "GOD! This is why I hate people. They just want to talk and gape and wipe up their own drool."

Kylie raised an eyebrow at him, "Charming insight to humanity."

Sherlock paid no attention to her as he was still looking around frantically.

"Hey," Kylie said grabbing his hand and trying to get him to stop, "He's gone. Let's go back to London and solve this thing. Its not worth crying over spilt milk."

He sighed heavily and looked at her.

Her hair was slightly mused from the light breeze. Her jacket wasn't buttoned as it gaped, allowing the blue of her dress to allow her eyes to pop as she looked at him.

"Fine," he muttered.

"Thank you," Kylie said softly as she dropped his hand and they slowly made their towards the train station.

***&# *#() )**

They sat on the train in silence, both lost in their own thoughts as they looked out the window at the passing scenery in the dark.

"Tell me something," Kylie said, turning to face him, "How on earth did he know we were solving crimes together?"

"He's most likely been keeping tabs on you and your career." Sherlock said in his matter-of-fact way.

Kylie laughed to herself, then sarcastically said, "Great, I have a serial killer as a stalker."

Sherlock looked at the woman across from him. she had turned and looked back out the window, looking as if she was trying to hide sadness once more.

"I mean, unless he's probably a part of my fan club," he told her slyly.

A smile slowly spread out over her face as she snorted and began laughing lightly, causing Sherlock to smile in return.

"Thanks," she told him, "I needed that laugh."

Sherlock opened his mouth to respond…

BEEP BEEP

Kylie's phone went off. She gave him a small smile as she looked down and opened her clutch, freezing as she did so.

"What?" he asked.

Kylie looked at him before reaching in her clutch and gently pulled out a single skeletal finger. The ligaments had been rotted away, but the three bones were held together by hinges.

Sherlock frowned and put on one of his gloves before gently taking the finger from her.

"He must have slipped it in your purse while you were lecturing," Sherlock said as his eyes began analyzing the finger.

Kylie shook her head and pulled out her phone, frowning as she read the text from an unknown number.

_I left you a gift at Scotland Yard. Hopefully your two beautiful minds will figure it out before someone else gets hurt._

_-DW_

"Oh God," she muttered as she showed the text to Sherlock, "We need to get to Scotland Yard. Now."

"It's a game." Sherlock said, an excited glint in his eye.

"That, or he just wants to make us dance," Kylie said taking the finger back to analyze it. "I'm not able to get much out of it other than its most likely from a man, due to its size, and its been jammed multiple times and fractured once. I'll be able to tell you more once I've examined it under a microscope."

"Wait, jamming and fractures?" he asked straightening with interest, "Typical with that of a basketball player?"

"Uh, yeah I'd say so." Kylie said looking at him quizzically.

"Marvin Hammermoore." Sherlock said becoming lost in his thoughts.

"Who?" Kylie asked slightly confused.

"Victim. The second victim, the teenage boy. Right before his disappearance, he accepted a scholarship to an American university to play basketball." Sherlock stated, his eyes now sparkling with excitement.

"You think that our new psychopathic friend left us a clue towards his death at the yard?"

"Exactly what I think."

The train slowed to a stop at their station, causing Sherlock to leap up along with Kylie, putting the finger back in her purse for safe keeping as they practically ran off the train and through the station.

"Come on Kylie!" Sherlock yelled as he ran a head of her.

"You aren't in a gown and heels!" she yelled back as she hurried after him, thankful for her daily runs so that she could somewhat keep up with him.

She met Sherlock out on the curb just as he was trying to flag down a cab.

BEEP BEEP

She pulled out her phone once more.

_I'd hurry up if I were you. The great DI wont be very great anymore._

_-DW_

Kylie's face dropped as she read the text. She showed Sherlock quickly. He looked at her for a moment before he took off running towards the new Scotland Yard.

"Come on!" he yelled, "Its ten blocks away!"

Kylie growled before she took off after him.

Sherlock lead the way,weaving through the city as he knew the streets of London like the back of his hand.

They sprinted ten blocks through the twisty turning city before they reached Scotland Yard. They sprinted into the building and past objecting security guards' to reach Lestrade's office where they found Lestrade, John, and Sergeant Donovan all gathered around a package on Lestrade's desk.

Lestrade looked up at the pair, both out of breath. Both of their clothes were rumpled and askew. Sherlock's curls were unruly and sticking up everywhere, while Kylie's hair was coming unpinned and messy.

Lestrade gaped at pair. Dressed-up, together, out of breath, clothes askew, and both had what looked like sex-hair?

"Were you two-?" Lestrade said in amazement as he slowly smiled at them.

John who had an extremely similar conclusion smirked and said, "I guess the date went really well then."

That comment earned John a glare from both Sherlock and Kylie while Donovan spat out the coffee that she had been drinking, sputtering at the couple before them.

"Date?! With that freak?"

"It WASN'T a date," Sherlock said through gritted teeth.

Just then Kylie's phone beeped. She rolled her eyes as she looked at the text she had received before showing it to Sherlock.

_I just like watching the two of you dance. You'll need all the help you can get on this one._

_-DW_

Lestrade was safe… for now…

Sherlock's body relaxed slightly.

"You two had a date?" Donovan asked still in shock that the pair had waltzed into her boss's office in that state.

"What's in the box?" Kylie asked, desperate to change the topic from gossip back to that case at hand… now that they actually knew it was a case…

"They went on a date," Lestrade said completely ignoring Kylie's question, "And had a good round I imagine also."

"Round?" Sherlock said incredulously, "Gavin, what the hell are you talking about? We were working a case!"

Kylie stared at him incredulously, "You do know his name is Greg, right?"

"Thank you," Lestrade said, slightly peeved that Sherlock _still_ couldn't remember his name.

"Really?" John said in amazement, "You really have no clue what we are talking about do you?"

Sherlock just stared at him.

"Seriously?"

"So, that pool?" Lestrade asked with a smile, recovering from his own anger at the glee to poke fun at them once more, "How much do you want to wager?"

John was about to answer, when Kylie muttered something under her breath before walking over to John and Lestrade, slapping one in the back of the head before doing the same to the other.

"Stop stirring the pot and trying to make things up that obviously didn't even happen," she told them as she walked back over to where she had been standing next to Sherlock.

Everyone in the room was staring at her in blatant shock that she had hit the army doctor and her own boss.

"What?" she asked, "You deserved it. Now, can someone please tell me what the hell is in this box?"

Sherlock smirked slightly as John and Lestrade rubbed the back of their heads and refocused, still stunned at what had just happened.

"It just… uh.. showed up at Scotland Yard addressed to Sherlock Holmes and Doctor Gibbs," Lestrade told them.

Sherlock leaned forward to examine the box more closely as Kylie frowned and looked at John, just realizing something.

"Why are you down here John?" she asked, "You just happened to be here when they found that package?"

"By the fact that John actually has cash in his pocket, I would guess he was out to place a bet." Sherlock said glancing up at his flatmate before looking back down at the box.

"At the yard?" Kylie asked, as she bent over to look at the box as well.

"Apparently, it's a pool based on us," Sherlock said turning the box to examine another side of it.

"Hmm," Kylie said, not really paying attention to the conversation anymore, but began going through her purse once more pulling out a knife and the finger Weatherly had placed in it.

"Is that…?" Lestrade asked.

"Yep," Kylie said picking up the knife and cutting the box open with it, "We made friends with a psychopathic serial killer."

"Wait, there actually was a killer?" John asked Sherlock, "You didn't make it up to get her to go out with you?"

"Of course there was a case." Sherlock said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "I don't date."

"We told you this!" Kylie argued.

"Case?" Lestrade asked, "What case?"

"Sherlock found a series of disappearances that were all linked to the same time I gave lectures here in the UK. I had another lecture tonight and that where we met our new psychopathic friend, Donald Weatherly. He's the one who was so kind to leave that finger in my bag, and have us run ten blocks to get here." Kylie told the group, the case getting more and more under her skin as she did so.

"Go figure," Donovan muttered, "He probably killed them himself."

"You know," Kylie said straightening and looking at Donovan, "I am getting _real_ sick of you."

"Ladies.." Joh said warningly, "Back to the case, please?"

"A finger though?" Lestrade asked looking at it intently.

"The finger he left us is from a teenager who disappeared the same time as one of Kylie's lectures." Sherlock stated, "Marvin Hammermoore."

"Teenage basketball star, disappeared three years ago" Lestrade said linking the two together.

"Yes. And our new friend likes to leave messages and told us he'd left us a gift here at the yard." Sherlock said taking a closer step towards the box.

"Psychopaths and riddles?" John asked, "That usually works out well."

"Yeah, I should have listened to my father" Kylie said opening the box, "rule numbers 36; if you feel like you are being played you usually are."

She gave the group a dark looked, telling them she was a bit more than upset about the content of the box before she walked out of the room, closely followed by Sherlock who grabbed the finger off the desk.

John, Lestrade and Donovan all looked at each other confused before peering inside the box, only to find it completely empty…

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	16. Chapter 16

**Seriously… you guys are AMAZING. A HUGE Thanks to all my reviewers and your kind, kind words. For real. It made my day. **

**Here's another short one! **

**Enjoy!**

Sherlock met Kylie out on the street. He found himself stopping to observe her. Her posture had changed. The light-natured smile no longer on her face as she flagged down a cab, hopping in immediately.

Sherlock followed quickly, knowing that he would get left behind if he didn't.

"Where…?" the cabbie began to ask.

"Bart's," Kylie interrupted sternly.

The cabbie looked a bit taken aback at her tone before he put the car into gear and began driving.

Sherlock frowned as he glanced at Kylie once more. She had gone quiet and was looking out the window of the cab; lost in her own thoughts. He could tell that she was upset about something, but he was never good with these sorts of things. People always informed him that he was out of touch with human emotion. Hell, if someone asked Donovan or Anderson, they would most likely tell you that he wasn't even human. Usually his lack of attention to the Human condition kept him objective and on point during cases, but with that, came the consequence of frustration and anger from others; mainly John. But it was at times like this, when John, Mrs. Hudson, and now this woman were upset, that he somehow wished he could comprehend human emotion and what was causing it.

He looked away from her, trying not to get caught staring, as he looked out his own window. He wracked his brain, trying to figure out what had set her off. She had been okay with everything, then, once they had gotten that box, something had set her off…

…but what?

The cab slowed as they pulled up to Bart's. Kylie paid the driver before hopping out and storming into the hospital, causing even Sherlock to struggle to keep up with her.

They walked into the laboratory, throwing on the lights, as nearly the entire floor had been deserted this late at night.

Sherlock stopped and watched with mild curiosity as Kylie immediately walked over to a microscope station and opened her clutch. She froze and stared at her empty clutch before growling in anger and getting up once more.

She walked even faster towards the door, anger obviously surging throughout her body.

"Looking for this?" Sherlock asked as he pulled the finger out of the handkerchief in his pocket.

"No, I forgot the damn…" she said angrily before she turned around and saw him holding up the finger.

"…finger…" she finished quietly, her anger beginning to fade slightly.

"Storming out makes you forgetful," he told her as she walked over, "Would hate for you to lose evidence over a 'hot head'."

Sherlock literally saw the fire resurge in the auburn-haired woman's eyes as she snatched the finger out of his hand, marching back over to the microscope and the large magnifying glass that was set up next to it.

She sat on the stool in silence as she took out gloves and began examining the finger. He examined her as she did so. Her posture was straight, but slightly hunches as she had to lean forward in her tight gown. She was focused; her eyebrows clinched together and her eyebrows slightly squinted as she was trying to pick up every detail of the bone in front of her.

"DAMN IT!" she said suddenly in frustration, startling Sherlock as she slammed one hand down on the table and clenched the finger in her other gloved hand before nearly tossing it down in a petri dish and angrily peeling off her gloves as she got up and began to pace the room.

"There's nothing. Nothing, Sherlock!" she told him as he just raised an eyebrow at her silently, "This psychopath is just playing with us!"

She paced the room furiously in silence for a few moments as Sherlock walked over to the finger, putting on gloves of his own and looking at it.

She began ranting again, but he wasn't listening. His eyes were scouring the bone.

… thats when he saw it.

He smiled victoriously to himself as she continued ranting about what he could only assume was the case at hand.

_He was going to beat her at a game with bones…_

He picked up a scalpel as Kylie continued to pace the floor, scraping a sample off the side of the bone and into another petri dish, where he began to add chemicals and run samples.

"I mean why do psychopaths always seem to follow me?"

He typed something into the computer as he began the search.

"…I don't understand. I don't ask for them!"

_….Searching…._

"..They always seem to find me. Every Goddamn time…"

…_Searching…_

_"…_I mean do I just have 'psychopath wanted' tattooed on my forehead?"

BEEP

_Result found_

"Kylie…"

"…Who the hell does this Donald Weatherly guy think he is in the first place?"

"Kylie."

"Why me? there's other forensic anthropologists out there…"

"KYLIE!"

"WHAT?" she said loudly back as she looked at him.

"Are you done ranting like a buffoon? Because I found something?" he asked her, pointing to the computer screen.

She glared at him angrily before walking over beside him, bending down next to him to read the screen.

_Result found: 100% match Sphagnum Capillfolium_

"Peat Moss?" she asked, "Where'd you get the sample from?"

Sherlock smiled. The woman actually knew what Sphagnum Capillfolium was… that and he had found something before her.

"I took a scraping from the finger," he told her, "Even the hardest of bones are still slightly porous. Even you should know that."

She turned and glared daggers at him, "Make a comment about American Universities right now, I dare you."

He stared at her for a moment, trying his damnedest not to smile as he knew he was succeeding at getting under her skin at the current moment.

He had no idea why, but seeing her glare daggers at him as he picked on her was slightly frightening, yet sent something pleasurable through his body that he couldn't explain.

"To be more exact, this is peat moss that only grown in bogs or forests," he told her, dropping the topic.

"So what?" she asked, "We just start searching bogs and forests and expect there to be a big X left where the bodies are?"

"No. We can look in Sussex," he told her with a smile as he got up, removing his gloves, "there are only a small number of bogs there, taking the probability down dramatically."

Kylie looked puzzled for a moment before she looked back at the screen, studying it for a moment before rolling her eyes.

"Really?" she asked, "You have memorized specific types of pollen DNA, linking them to specific regions?"

Sherlock smiled and turned to look at her, "I keep it handy in my mind. You never know when it might come in handy."

"That's how you know the bodies are in Sussex?"

"Precisely."

She looked at him for a moment before a smile began to spread out on her face as she shook her head and laughed at him.

"You really are a sort of genius aren't you?" she asked as she picked up the finger, putting it back in her bag.

He cocked an eyebrow at her as he pulled his phone out of his pocket, noting the sparkle back in the woman's eyes as she looked back up at him.

"What gave that away?" he asked.

She walked over to him before putting a hand on his shoulder and shoving him lightly, "Shut up."

Sherlock chuckled at her as she walked out of the lab. He followed close behind, dialing Lestrade's number.

"Lestrade," he said as they descended the stairs, "We know where the bodies are."

**Review? Sorry it was short…**


	17. Chapter 17

**Thanks so much for all of the AMAZING support! Seriously, you guys are amazing. Thanks so much!**

Sherlock's brain was buzzing as he sat impatiently in an armchair of 221B, waiting on Lestrade and John to arrive. Kylie was changing in the flat below and he was more than a little anxious to get to the crime scene.

…The bodies had to be in one of those bogs…

There were three that he knew of off the top of his head. They just had to get there and see… if only he could view them all at once… then he would be able to narrow it all down and he could have a definitive answer.

Just then, he heard footsteps charging up the stairs, bringing him out of his thoughts. Kylie entered the flat wide-eyed and holding a brown backing box, similar to that of the one that had been mailed to Scotland Yard.

"Sherlock…" she said, slightly breathlessly.

"It was in your flat?" he inquired, knowing exactly what had happened as he leapt up to take a closer look at the box.

It was an ordinary looking box; clean, no writing, no markings of any kind. Just tape holding it shut.

"Open it," he demanded.

"Please?" she asked sarcastically, earning a glare of impatience from Sherlock as she pulled a knife out of her jeans pocket and slicing the package open.

Both held their breath slightly as peered into the box, only to frown at what they had found.

Inside was a bright red dog collar that had been embroidered with little white bones down the side. Wrapped around it was what looked to be a hand written note.

Sherlock reached a hand into the box, pulling out the collar before Kylie picked the note off of it, unfolding it.

"Woof woof. You are barking up the wrong tree, doctor," she read out loud before she looked up at Sherlock, puzzled. "What in the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Scooter," Sherlock said, looking at the dog tag.

"The….victim's dog." Kylie said thinking back to the file she had read a few days earlier. "Martin Hammermoore's dog."

"The same dog that went missing along with him," Sherlock said looking closely at the dog collar, taking in trace remains of fur and information.

"Golden Retriever," Sherlock said after a moment of taking the information in. "A large dog. Probably accompanied Martin on his daily runs. A dog like this and an athlete like Martin…"

"…Would have been hard to incapacitate." Kylie finished for him.

"So how did he subdue his victims?" Sherlock asked as he looked at her.

Kylie shook her head, stumped. "No idea."

They locked their gaze for a moment, both of their minds reeling as they thought, before their gaze was broken by the sound of footsteps pounding up the stairs as well as John and Lestrade walked into the flat.

"You two ready?" Lestrade asked.

"Wait, what's that?" John asked, noticing the collar in Sherlock's hand and the box on the table, "New gift from the killer?"

"Yeah," Kylie said bitterly as she tossed the note onto the table, "It was in my flat."

With that, she grabbed her coat and walked out the door.

Lestrade just looked at Sherlock, "You two find that package together after you 'changed'?" he grinned.

Sherlock looked at him incredulously, "Like that is even a _logical_ conclusion," he scoffed before he grabbed his coat and followed after her.

Lestrade looked at John in amazement, "How does he not think that them shagging is not even logical?"

John shook his head slightly, "Because he's Sherlock Holmes. That's why."

"Hey!" Kylie's voice yelled up the stairs, "You two girls done gossiping? Or can we go yet?"

"Here's to hoping they figure it out one day," Lestrade told John as they made their way towards the door.

"You are just saying that because you want the five hundred quid pool there is now," John smirked.

Lestrade laughed, "All I have to do is get them both to come around the Yard again and that pool will double."

***&# *(( )**

"I swear to God, if we don't find something here, I'm going to scream." Kylie said angrily as she slammed the door to the squad car as the group arrived at the 3rd bog that night. Thankfully, this bog was being drained to extract the peat moss that they were looking for.

"Oh bloody hell! Will you stop complaining?" Sherlock yelled in exasperation as he slammed his own car door.

Kylie stopped in her tracks and glared at the dark haired detective, "That's rich coming from you. Mr. 'I throw a fit because I didn't get my way'."

"They were going to destroy evidence!"

"There was no evidence!"

"Aren't you supposed to be in a lab?"

"I'm sorry. I'm used to the bodies being at the crime scenes that I don't have to search for before I get to stay up all night examining them." Kylie said catching back up to the group. "That's what forensic anthropologists do."

Sherlock stopped and whirled around to face her.

"Well, then go home and let the real professionals work," he snapped at her before whirling back around and beginning to search around the bog.

Kylie stopped once more, turning to Lestrade, "Lestrade, can I borrow your gun so I can shoot him?" Kylie asked through gritted teeth.

She was exhausted. The sun was rising; she hadn't slept, let alone eaten in 24 hours since this whole mess began. Her fuse was short and detective was pushing every button he could at the current moment.

"Welcome to couple's counseling," Lestrade said sarcastically to John.

"Well if you would have gone to a respected university, you would be more productive in the field," Sherlock continued as he knelt down next to the bog.

Kylie stood there, gaping at the man, her eyes blazing in anger.

"Really?" she asked incredulously, "This again?"

"Well it seems to be the most reoccurring factor," Sherlock said as he bent closer, shining his torch in the water.

Kylie looked at him for a moment before lifting her foot and shoving him forward into the water of the bog, catching him off guard and a large splash as he tried (and failed) to prevent himself from getting wet.

"Whoops," Kylie said flatly as she walked away, as Sherlock stood up, furiously.

"CHILDREN!" John yelled throwing his hands up in the air as he rounded on the two of them, "Stop bloody arguing, solve this damn case, so we can all go home and get some sleep!"

Both of them opened their mouths to answer as the entire crime scene went quiet in response to the doctor's outburst.

"No! Nope!" John told them both furiously as he pointed fingers at the both of them, "I have listened to your yelling and bickering for the last four hours. I am done hearing it. You both arent allowed to talk unless it has to do with the case, or so help me God, I will kick both your arses."

Kylie scoffed before John took a menacing step towards her, wiping the smile off her face.

"Thank you," John said bitterly as he spun around.

"Uh…Guys?" Donovan said from a few yards away in the middle of the bog, "You're gonna want to see this."

Lestrade, John, Sherlock, and Kylie trekked over to where Donovan stood, only to have their hearts drop into their stomach.

There, before them in the corner of the bog, was a skeletal hand floating on the surface.

"Let's get the pumps out here shall we?" Lestrade said sighing as he pulled out his mobile.

Kylie sighed to herself and ran a hand through her hair before tying it back once more.

She was never going home.

***&* (#( ***

Kylie leaned back and yawned against Lestrade's police cruiser. The sun had risen a while ago and the pumps still weren't there.

"Where are they?" John moaned from his seat next to her on the ground.

"Did Lestrade even call them?" Kylie asked tiredly.

"Unlike Sherlock thinks," Lestrade said walking over handing the two of them a cup of coffee, "I am not completely inept."

Kylie smiled at him, taking the coffee gratefully.

"I never said that boss."

"Doesn't stop Sherlock," Lestrade said as he looked towards where the consulting detective was standing on the edge of the bog, looking out over the water.

Kylie followed his gaze. She and John had been watching him stare motionless at the bog for the last couple of hours.

"Does he always do this?" Kylie asked quietly as she took a sip of her coffee, savoring the warm beverage.

"Yeah," John muttered as he sipped his own coffee, "I've seen him stare at a wall in silence for more than six hours."

Kylie didn't answer, she just kept staring at the detective in interest. As annoying and as under her skin as he could get; the man was fascinating. No one she knew had the brilliance, brain power, and determination to sit and think for six hours straight, unmoving. It was truly amazing.

The sound of a large truck pulling up brought Kylie out of her thoughts.

"Bout damn time," Lestrade muttered as he began walking over to the truck pulling up, "WHERE IN THE BLOODY HELL HAVE YOU LOT BEEN?"

"Sorry inspector, we had some mechanical trouble," the man said stepping out of the truck and beginning to lowering the hose into the bog.

"Well, think were probably about to have work to do," John said as he got up, offering his hand to help Kylie up as well.

She accepted it gratefully, standing up.

"Should I go snap him out of it then, shall I?" Kylie asked John as Sherlock was still staring at the bog.

John nodded and fought a smile as he watched Kylie walk over to his flatmate, gently touching his arm and talking to him quietly, pointing out the truck and offering him some of her coffee.

Never in his time with Sherlock, had he seen him go from bickering horribly to the point of where they were about to kill each other, to sharing a coffee and talking quietly with a woman. Sherlock was his best friend. They had a strange relationship, but it was a brotherhood; he loved him like a brother… an annoying prick, but a brother. This woman though… it was good to see his friend open up ever-so-slightly to someone, despite his ignorance to his attraction to her.

That went both ways though. Kylie was obviously intrigued and awed by his flatmate. It was only a matter of time before they both came to their senses.

"Hey John," Kylie said turning around as Sherlock knelt down closer to the water, "Come look at this."

"What?" John said as he walked over, "They haven't even drained the bog yet."

"That look normal to you?" Kylie asked nodding towards the water.

John squinted and knelt down next to Sherlock as he looked at the water.

The skeletal hand that they had found was floating in the remaining water as the truck was draining the bog. The hand however, was connected to a disturbingly still fleshy arm.

"What in the hell…?" John asked as he looked at the arm in interest.

"You lot all talking again?" Lestrade asked as he walked over to the group.

Sherlock and Kylie just turned and looked at Lestrade blankly for a moment before Kylie chose to ignore the comment.

"Based on the size and injuries that have been sustained, I do in fact believe that this is Marvin Hammermoore, but I would have to see the whole body to be sure."

"Why is his arm flesh covered?" John asked, "The kid disappeared years ago."

"Plastic," Sherlock responded.

"Huh?"

"He was covered in plastic. That's what protected his skin from scavengers and decomposition, his hand must have been pulled out of the plastic to get the finger…"

"Or he was fighting back and managed to get a hand out before he died," John said as he noticed wounds on the forearm.

"Then where's the plastic now?" Lestrade asked.

"He must have beat us here," Sherlock said looking around.

"Bloody hell," John muttered as he looked at the quickly draining bog.

Kylie looked up to see young Martin Hammermore's body, half skeletal, half covered in flesh, emerging from the bog. But as soon as she saw it, she noticed that his body was not the only one in the bog.

There were three other human bodies and the body of a dog, still wrapped in plastic and attached to a brick; the other two bodies were skeletal and completely decomposed.

"This was his body drop," Kylie muttered.

"He killed them close to here then," Sherlock said scanning the area for any possible shelters.

"How do you figure that?" Lestrade asked.

"Think! It would be too hard to transport bodies too far in a car. He had not choice but to subdued them and murder them out here, far from where they could be heard."

"These bodies all fit the description of our suspected victims," Kylie said, as she waded into the water to look at the bodies.

"Can you get cause of death?" John said coming over to assist her.

"Not here," Kylie said, her eyes still on the body, "there are no distinct markings of something that would kill them. I'd have to clean the bones and examine them under a magnifying glass and X-ray to get a definitive COD." Kylie leaned closer to the bodies, "this maniac actually listened to what I had to say. I gave a lecture on how plastic can distort time of death and evidence."

John saw guilt beginning to eat at the anthropologist again.

"Kylie," Sherlock said, drawing her out of her thoughts, as his eyes were trained on something near a tree. Kylie looked up and followed Sherlock line of sight. Seeing what he laid eyes on, Kylie slowly stood up.

"Yeah," Kylie said breathlessly walking towards the tree, Sherlock following close behind.

Wrapped around the tree, was a dog leash, the same red color with the same white dog bone embroidering as the collar Kylie had received at Baker street.

"Is it just me, or was that not here ten minuets ago?" Kylie asked breathlessly

"It wasn't," Sherlock said untying the leash. "He's here, on the crime scene."

Kylie whirled around to look for the maniac as Lestrade and John walked over to the tree.

"He's here?" Lestrade asked in outrage.

"He's most likely gone by now, " Sherlock said as he examined the leash in front of him, scouring it for any sign or clue.

As he was doing so, Sherlock's phone went off. He pulled an evidence bag out of his pocket placing the leash in it and passing the bag to Lestrade. He fished his phone out of his pocket and his heart dropped into his stomach as he read what was on the screen from an unknown number.

_Dear me Mr. Holmes. I told you two to drop it, and you didn't listen. Shame on you. Now the student will have to demonstrate on the master. Your girlfriend is next._

_-DW_

**Thoughts? feelings? review?**

**… Please?**


	18. Chapter 18

**A HUGE thanks to all my amazing reviewers! You guys seriously put a smile on my face! So thank you!**

Kylie was in danger.

He had to find this maniac quickly.

Sherlock grabbed the evidence bag containing the leash back out of Lestrade's hand.

"Oi! What the hell?" Lestrade asked.

Sherlock ignored him before swiftly walking over to Kylie who had walked away to speak to the man transporting the bodies.

"Come on. Time to go," Sherlock told her as he grabbed her wrist and pulled her back towards the road.

"Sherlock? What…? Let go!" Kylie said in complete confusion, trying to match his long strides as he wasn't letting go of her wrist.

"JOHN!" Sherlock shouted over his shoulder to his blogger, ignoring Kylie, "Come on. We'll need you."

"Sherlock! I have to stay with the bodies!" Kylie argued, finally breaking Sherlock's hold on her wrist and stopping.

He stopped in his tracks, rounding on her and pulling his phone out in the process.

"I'm not going to let you sit out here like a sitting duck for him to pick you off," he told her in a low voice as he showed her his latest test.

Kylie felt her heart drop as she read the words.

_She was his next target… he thought that she and Sherlock were actually dating…_

"You need to stay with John or I at all times, no one can be trusted anymore," Sherlock told her as he put a hand on her back and nudged her to begin walking towards the police cars once more.

Kylie was completely silent as John caught up to them.

"Where's the fire?" John asked.

Kylie took a moment to process the information before she thrusted the phone at John.

"I can take care of myself you know?" Kylie told Sherlock stubbornly.

"Right now," Sherlock told her as they reached a police cruiser and he opened the door for her, "I'm not willing to take that risk. Are you?"

She stared at him for a moment.

"I'm not a damsel in distress," she told him quietly.

"No, you thrust weapons at unexpected visitors when they knock on your door in the middle of the night," he replied, "You arent defenseless, nor a weak-minded woman by any stretch, but are you really willing to just sit here waiting for him to pick you off just to prove your stubbornness?"

She stared at him for a moment longer before she looked down and quietly got into the vehicle. He shut the door, locking Kylie in the back of the car before he turned to John.

"He's after her?" John asked him.

"I thought that was fairly obvious," Sherlock snapped as he took his phone back, "She doesn't leave our sight."

Sherlock made to go get an officer to drive them back to Bart's before John spoke up.

"I have just one question though!" John told him, making Sherlock stop in his tracks and look at his flatmate expectantly.

"Why is he calling Kylie your girlfriend?" John asked with a slight grin.

Sherlock glared at him and rolled his eyes before showing him a certain rude finger as he walked towards an officer.

**&*^#*( #() **

"I still don't understand why Weatherly is using the dog's leash and collar as his clues," Kylie said as they entered the lab, rubbing her eyes and fighting fatigue once more.

"I'm just as lost as you are," John told her as he sat down on one of the stools, rubbing a hand over his face.

Sherlock didn't add anything to the conversation, but instead, began to open the evidence bag and scour the leash for any evidence.

Kylie and John just watched him. John had grown accustomed to this sort of thing, living with Sherlock for a while now, but Kylie was restless. She needed something to do, something to examine, something to catch this dirt bag.

"Stop it," Sherlock said, not even looking up from the leash, which he currently had placed underneath a magnifying glass.

Kylie looked at him, confused, "I'm sorry?"

"Stop twitching, it's annoying."

She frowned. She hadn't even been making any noise.

She looked at John, looking for answers, but he just rolled his eyes and shook his head, silently trying to tell her to drop it.

"I can't just idly sit here while some maniac is out there about to start another killing spree!" Kylie said in exasperation with both of the men.

"Let's remember that that psychopath wants to begin his streak with you." John pointed out.

Kylie sighed, knowing her arguing was useless. That… and he sort of had a point, no matter how much Kylie didn't want to admit it.

She ran a hand through her hair, "When in the hell are the bodies going to get here?"

That comment earned her a glare from Sherlock. Apparently, no one was supposed to speak while he was at work. She couldn't talk, she couldn't move, she couldn't examine anything, and she couldn't leave…

Giving up, Kylie just laid her head down on the table and allowed her fatigue to take over, drifting off to sleep quickly and more easily than she had in weeks.

**^ *(#)( ) **

"Kylie."

…..

"Kylie."

She felt a hand on her arm, gently shaking her awake.

She groaned in response, hoping that the voice would just go away.

"Ky," the voice said once more.

She cracked an eye, only to see Sherlock hovering over her, trying to gently wake her.

She shut her eyes and blinked a few times, "Hmm?" she asked groggily as she sat up, running a hand through her tousled hair and looking around.

John was asleep in the opposite corner of the room in a similar position that she had been in just moments ago.

Kylie shut her eyes once more before she looked up at Sherlock, "How long was I asleep?"

"A couple of hours," he told her, "Come on, I have something you'll want to see."

She got up from her chair as quietly as she could, trying not to wake John as she left the lab with Sherlock, walking down towards the morgue.

She shut her eyes and stumbled slightly into Sherlock, causing him to put a hand on her back to try to steady her.

"Alright?" he asked her.

"Yeah," she said shaking her head, "Sorry. Still trying to wake up."

She saw him give her look before taking back his hand from her back, leaving her with a feeling of emptiness once more.

_Get your act together Kylie_

They entered the morgue, giving her a welcomed distraction out of her thoughts. She saw that the bodies had indeed arrived and Sherlock had been working them for quite sometime.

"When did they get here?" she asked as she accepted and donned the pair of gloves that Sherlock and handed her.

"About two hours ago," he told her as he walked over to the body of Martin Hammermoore.

"What? Why didn't you wake me?" she asked as she began to look over the boy.

"I needed you fresh," he told her quietly, never taking his eyes off the body.

Kylie looked at him out of the corner of her eye, smirking at him slightly before she began to look over the skeletal portion of the body.

_Male._

_Caucasian. _

_Teenager- most likely 16-18 years of age. _

_Tall. _

_Fingers have been repeatedly jammed, 2 on his right hand and one on his left have been fractured in the metacarpal pharyngeal joint._

_No signs of trauma, no brittleness or odd coloring to the bone- not a poisoning._

_The ribs though do look as if they received small stress fractures right before death? …Yes, before death._

Kylie brought the magnifying glass over the body.

_Inflammation in the periosteum. _

Kylie checked the other bodies, including that of the dog.

"The victims were drowned," Kylie said looking up at Sherlock, his eyes sparkling with intrigue.

"See the small fracturing in the ribs?" she continued, "These fractures are extremely specific. The only way that these fractures could be sustained is by a struggle to breathe. We know they weren't strangled because the hyoid is not broken, and we also know that they weren't smothered because we would see swelling in the periosteium in the zygomatic arch on both sides of his face. Hence, they were drowned. But the next question is, why do they not have any defensive wounds or any other trauma for that matter?"

"They were wrapped in plastic," Sherlock stated.

She looked at him curiously, "You think that he wrapped them in plastic and then drowned them, using the plastic as a sort of restraint?"

"That or they were drugged."

"Or both."

"Exactly."

"So if they were all drowned in the bog where we found them…"

"That means that Weatherly must be somewhere near that bog," Sherlock finished. "He's smart. He wouldn't drive a long distance with an unconscious person in his car. No, he wouldn't want the attention or risk them waking up. My bet, he lives in Sussex."

Kylie grinned at him, "Let's get John and catch this bastard."

Sherlock gave her a grin before they walked back up to the lab. The pair walked into the lab, only to find it empty.

Sherlock frowned. It wasn't like John to wander off. He would always wait for him, call, or go and find him in the morgue.

"He probably went to the bathroom," Kylie told him as she took her seat once more on the stool.

Sherlock scanned the room, until something caught his eye.

"No," he said in a quiet voice that sounded so unlike his own, as it was covered in fear.

Kylie frowned and followed his line of sight for the second time that day, staring at the spot where John had been sleeping.

Her heart fell into her stomach.

_Oh God…_

On the desk that John had been sitting at, lay a dog bone with a note attached to it. Sherlock walked over to the stool, Kylie right behind him, as he picked it up slowly and read the note.

_I threw you a bone, now I have 206 more to play with. Well, that is… until the good Doctor plays dead._

"John," Kylie whispered breathlessly.

**Review? Make my day?**


	19. Chapter 19

**I have the greatest readers… seriously, you guys are amazing. I appreciate you guys taking the time to write your thoughts and send them to me. **

**Also, I apologize, It was pointed out to me that I have been spelling minute, minuet.. I apologize. Dyslexia and copying and pasting from the last one (Where I did that a lot) as well as not rereading throughly is what causes me to do that. I apologize! I promise you I am competent enough to know how to spell stuff. **

**anyhow, enjoy!**

"That son of a bitch has John," Kylie said quietly in a state of shock as the realization of what had just happened hit her.

Sherlock stood still, taking a moment as shock filled his body. He looked at the dog bone in his hand.

His best friend.

…Taken by a psychopath.

…From right under his own nose…

He shut his eyes in fury with himself.

"He said you were the one he was going to take!"

"Yeah, well, everyone lies," she replied quietly, guilt beginning to eat at her again.

_It should be her… not John._

"No, he promised it would be you. I was so sure of it," he continued to rant angrily as he began pacing.

"Oh? So everyone lies except for psychopathic serial killers?" she asked sarcastically as she pulled out her phone, texting Lestrade, "Yeah… that makes sense. Lets just find this bastard before John ends up in the bottom of a bog."

Sherlock stopped pacing and bent over, clutching the table as he stared blankly at a spot on the counter.

Kylie softened immediately, knowing the man was worried about his friend.

She walked over to him and placed a comforting hand on his arm, "We'll find him, Sherlock."

He looked down at her hand on his arm, before looking up, into her eyes. They held the gaze for a long moment, neither moving, both barely breathing as blue locked on blue.

All of a sudden, Sherlock stiffened and moved away from her, ranting at hyperspeed.

"We know that he drugs the victims, wraps them in plastic, and we also know he drowns them in a particular bog. But the bog in question has been discovered and drained. We took his prizes, now, he took our friend. We know he doesn't like to drive far with his victims, which means that he will probably take him to a bog nearby London." Sherlock began searching on his phone, "Most likely close to Sussex, he wants something out of the way, something that no one will see him. A rural or deserted area."

"He knew we were close by. He'll want John dead right away. He wont keep him alive for long," she said, putting the phone to her ear and calling Lestrade as he wasn't responding to her text.

"Nor will he be able to keep them unconscious for long as well," sherlock said as he kept searching before pausing, "I got it. Come on."

Sherlock grabbed his jacket and ran out of the lab, Kylie close behind as they went in search of their friend.

**&^# *#) ( **

John's head was spinning.

Everything was dark.

His body was aching all over.

He tried to move, but found that something was preventing him. It was as if someone had wrapped a blanket tightly around him. He tried calling out, but something was blocking him.

Was that tape on his mouth?

What in the hell was going on?

Light began to slowly get brighter as a hazy form appeared in front of him.

Claustrophobic… why was was he feeling so claustrophobic?

"There, there good doctor," an unfamiliar voice told him, "We wouldn't want you to strain yourself … quite yet."

John groaned and blinked a few times, trying to get the haziness to fade. Once his eyes began to focus, he realized that he was lying in a car trunk, wrapped and tied in a plastic sheet.

Panic started to surge through him…

What in the HELL was going on?

He looked up at the source of the voice, seeing a man in his mid-fifties standing above him, holding the trunk open with one hand and holding a gun in the other, pointing directly at him.

"I'm sorry you have to die Dr. Watson," the man told him, shaking his head lightly as he pulled a large duffle bag out of the trunk from next to where John was laying, "Your friends think that they are much smarter than they are. I warned them to back off, and they refused. They cant stop me, no one can. They just need to accept that."

John blinked rapidly, trying to push back the haze once more.

_He drugged me…_

Just as if to answer his inquiry, the crazed man lowered the gun and held up a bottle of liquid, filling a syringe. John's eyes widened as he realized what was about to happen.

….He was going to die…

He tried to move, wriggling uselessly against the plastic.

Trapped… he was trapped…

"Now Doctor, no funny stuff," the man said as he leaned forward and injected the syringe into his neck, and the haze got stronger. John was barely able to tell that the man was placing chains around his ankles, tying the doctor into the plastic even further.

"Sleep tight, Doctor," the man said as John was lifted out of the trunk.

He tried to fight back, but his muscles refused. His eyes refused to open and he felt as if he were falling into blackness.

He felt cold and wet surround him like a dark cloak, taking over, pulling him down. He couldn't breath. He couldn't think.

He heard yelling in the distance as he had his last conscious thought.

_Please God, let me live._

Then everything went black….

**Short. I Know… but needed.**

**Review?**


	20. Chapter 20

**A huge thanks to all of my amazing reviewers! Seriously, you guys are amazing! thanks so much! Heres a longer and completely revamped version of this chapter! Hope you guys enjoy!**

Darkness

That's all there was; darkness.

So this was what death was like. No bright light at the end of the tunnel. No angels, no pearly white gates. Just dark. It was oddly... Peaceful. Like he was just floating in the vast darkness.

John always knew he was going to die. He was a solider, a doctor, and he ran around London chasing killers and criminals. But the last thing that he thought was he would be killed because a psychopath broke into Bart's and caught him while he was sleeping.

... What was that?

A voice?

"Come on John! Dammit, come on!"

Thump thump thump

What was hitting him in the chest?

Thump thump thump

"Where in the hell is Lestrade? He should be here by now!"

"Shut up and give him a rescue breath!"

John felt air being pushed into his lungs.

... Wait, if he was dead, how could he feel?

All of a sudden, light burst forward and John felt himself gasp for air before he began coughing severely, expelling the water from his lungs. His entire body felt as if it was on fire as he took ragged breaths through his coughing.

His eyes began to focus as the world came back into view.

He was lying in the field next to the bog, soaking wet. A soaking wet Kylie and Sherlock were leaning over him. Sherlock was wearing a look of relief John had never seen before, while Kylie had tears in her eyes, laughing out of pure relief as well.

"You okay?" Kylie asked as she wiped her eyes, rubbing his arm as his coughing finally died out.

"The… the man," John asked hoarsely as he looked around frantically, finally sitting up, "The man, where… where is he?"

"Its over John," Sherlock said calmly, "Just calm down."

"Calm, you want me to stay calm?!" John said as he scrambled up, only to have Kylie and Sherlock object and try to hold him down, "A MAN JUST TRIED TO DROWN ME!"

"John! Just relax!" Kylie told him, "Its over, he's gone."

"He's not gone!" John yelled before he trailed off, seeing his own Browning L9A1 and Kylie's Glock on the ground next to him, "But…"

He looked up at Kylie who was looking at the ground, avoiding his eye as Sherlock held and dropped his friends gaze. It was in that moment that he began to put the pieces together. His eyes slowly went over to the bog, seeing something floating in it; the body of the man who had tried to kill him.

"He…?" John said trailing off and sitting up fully.

"He was going to kill you," Kylie told him quietly, "We had no choice."

"He nearly succeeded," Sherlock said in a flat tone.

Kylie shot the dark-haired detective a look.

The trio fell into silence for a moment before sirens came blaring up the road, as a handful of police cars and an ambulance came tearing up the road.

"About damn time," Sherlock muttered as he got up.

Lestrade was the first out of the police cruiser, running towards them and slowing once he took in the entire scene.

"Bloody hell," he said looking around, "You lot okay?"

"Never better," Sherlock stated dryly, standing up, "John will need to be checked out though."

Lestrade looked over at John, "You alright John?"

"I'll live," John told him.

"Right… yeah," Lestrade said, slightly overwhelmed as he stared at the body floating in the bog, "I'll need to be getting your statements though… I mean, since…"

"Weatherly was holding John under, had a weapon, turned on us. Kylie fired three shots, I fired two. First was a warning, one in the shoulder, one in the leg. He still came at us, I took the the kill shot," Sherlock told him matter of factly as he folded his hands behind his back.

Lestrade paused and stared at him for a moment while Kylie was belong John up and handing him over to the paramedics.

"Who took the kill shot?" Lestrade asked.

"I did," both Kylie and Sherlock said at the same time, causing them to look at each other as if the other had lost their mind.

"What the hell do you mean you took the kill shot?" Kylie asked, "You barely even hit the guy!"

"You must be blind!" Sherlock argued in return, "I am a perfect shot…"

"No," Kylie scoffed, "You aren't. By a long shot…"

Sherlock began to bicker back as Lestrade shut his eyes in annoyance.

_Why in the hell did he even ask?_

**&^#(* &)(!***

A few months passed since John was attacked, and life had never been more typical at Baker Street. John, of course, had made a full recovery, and he and Sherlock had never been busier with their case load. Now, of course, it was slightly different.

Slowly, but gradually, Kylie had been "invited" to join the cases by Sherlock barging into her office at Scotland Yard, and or her flat, making irrational challenges which usually tricked her into assisting him on cases. Eventually, she had figured out the trend (…well, more like John had yelled it at them before stomping off) and used the fact he had needed her against him for a few weeks. This went on up until Lestrade, John, Mrs. Hudson, Molly, Anderson, Dimmock, the mail man, at least four clients, 6 suspects, a random woman on the street, nearly 12 cabbies, and a handful of homeless people had yelled at them to stop bickering.

It had taken nearly three months, a lot a challenges, and even more laughs from the pair, but both had officially felt each other out fully. Sure, they still bickered, but it was all in good fun. They both enjoyed each others (and John's) company. They had become fast friends, though Sherlock Holmes didn't have friends, he counted her as his second.

They had made it all the way up to Christmas Eve. Time had flown. Cases, getting to know London, work, her new friends; all had distracted Kylie from noticing how time was passing. She was loving life in London. She had originally planned on going back to DC for Christmas, but they had caught a case, forcing Kylie to stay in London. Not that she minded. She could stay out of DC for a while anyway, not to mention she had grown inseparably close to both John and Sherlock, and the Yard had quickly become her own second little family.

If she couldn't be with her father and family in DC, then she would be right here in Baker Street with the small group that had become her family over the last couple of months.

She smiled to herself as she was pulled out of her thoughts, tuning back in to listen to Sherlock playing Christmas tunes on the violin for Mrs. Hudson and Lestrade as John welcomed his newest girlfriend into the flat to join the part.

Kylie gave her a small smile and a wave as she had met her quickly once before on her hurried way out of the upstairs flat early one morning. The woman smiled at her awkwardly before nearly rolling her eyes as she saw Sherlock. Apparently, she wasn't too thrilled about Sherlock being there… but that was most likely because he feigned never being able to remember her name.

Sherlock ended the song, causing Mrs. Hudson to clap and laugh happily before talking to him. She didn't listen to what anyone was saying though, she was just nursing her scotch and taking it all in.

Happy. She was happy. During the one point in her life where she never thought she would find joy again, and yet here she was; content.

It only took a moment for Sherlock to catch her eye and excuse himself from Mrs. Hudson before wandering over to the couch where she was sitting.

"Where's Mycroft?" she asked. Mycroft and her had gotten to know each other better as she was frequenting the flat more often and he happened to turn up a lot, despite his brother's displeasure at that fact.

"We don't do family holidays," he told her as he sat next to her on the couch, leaning back and watching the scene along with her.

"Bummer," Kylie said drinking some of her scotch, "I was looking forward to getting a picture of him in the antlers."

Sherlock chuckled as he leaned back into the couch, comfortably next to the woman. He and Kylie had fallen into an easy friendship. They were a lot alike and yet they complimented each other very well. Sherlock actually enjoyed her company. John was the only other person he enjoyed being around, but this woman… she was different. She was the only person that made him feel…human. Vulnerable to emotion: fear, anger, happiness.

She smiled at him, making him realize that he had been staring.

"You need something to drink?" she asked him, "Your hand is disturbingly empty and you are disturbingly sober."

"I need to work, once this ruckus is over," he said, trying to look at the scene with displeasure.

He would never admit it as he loathed religion and holidays, but he adored Christmas. Absolutely adored it. He always had.

"Oh come on now," Kylie told him, "Its Christmas Eve. You have to live a little!"

"I am living," he told her as he pulled out a file of photos from their latest crime scene of a hotel heiress who had had her head bashed in from behind, "And breathing," he added in a smart tone.

Kylie slowly began to smirk as she tossed her head back and laughed at the comment, Sherlock laughing as well as both of them missed the flash of the camera in the room that happened to be pointing at them.

"Yeah, well good thing Sherlock Holmes," Kylie told him as she stood up and walked over to the small bar grabbing another glass, filling it as she filled her own before she grabbed them both and walked back over, holding one out for him, "because I'm demanding you take a night off."

He looked at her, arching an eyebrow before taking the glass from her.

"Oh, and I should because you tell me to?"

"Yes," she replied, taking a sip of her scotch and sitting back down, fighting a grin, "I am friends with a doctor you know?"

Sherlock chuckled at her as he took a sip of his scotch, setting it down on the coffee table and picking back up the crime scene photos.

"Uh-uh," she said as she plucked the photos out of his hands, "You are taking a day off."

"Science never takes a day off," he said as he reached for the photos once more, only to have Kylie pull them farther out of his grasp.

"Everyone else is taking a day off, why shouldn't we? We can pick it back up tomorrow."

"Because no matter what there are always criminals to catch. They dont take a day off," he said as he leaned forward to grab the photos, getting closer to Kylie as he did.

"Its Christmas Eve. Even criminals have enough respect to take Christmas Eve off," she countered, looking at him.

He glared at her, sitting back up properly and picking up his scotch once more.

"I dont do holidays. Too much…" he trailed off, causing Kylie to smile at him.

"Joy?" she supplied.

He shot her a look before taking a sip of his scotch.

"I'm a high functioning sociopath, some would tell you that I cant even feel."

Kylie leaned forward, setting the photos down on the table once more, next to the X-rays the coroner had given them, before she put her elbows on her knees, nursing the scotch.

"We both know that that's not true," she told him quietly as she looked at him.

Sherlock looked at her in confusion, causing her to smile softly.

"You hide behind the title. You see most things that people can't, and in order to cope with that, you remove yourself from it. Looking at people from a distance and never allowing yourself to get attached protects you. You look at everything analytically, shoving the emotion away, distancing yourself so that you can work. People say you come off distant and cold, but its only because you feel too much."

He was silent. He just stared at her, taken a back by her words.

She looked down at the coffee table, picking up one of the X-rays, staring at it.

"I get that. I'm almost jealous of it. I see things with bones that most people can't."

They sat in silence for a moment as she looked at the x-ray of the victims left arm.

"She broke her arm when she was seven. Most likely learning how to ride a bike. It was casted for about two weeks before she got right back on that bike and broke it all over again. She was strong and stubborn for a woman who was handed everything she could have ever wanted. Despite the large amount of antidepressants we found in her system and that she was prescribed, she fought back. A woman who could barely get out of bed in the morning didn't want to die. She fought back against her killer before he bashed her skull in."

He stared at her. She was looking at the x-ray sadly. How in the hell could she see all of that from an x-ray of the woman's arm? She was empathetic and still a genius. He had always believed that you couldn't be both.

She sighed and set the x-ray down, picking up her scotch once more.

"What I'm trying to tell you is, I get it," she told him as she looked at him, "To do what you do, and catch killers, you have to stay empirical 99.9% of the time to survive. But it is okay to let your walls down every once in a while too. No one is perfect."

They stared at each other, neither able to break the gaze.

CRASH

Both of their heads snapped towards a now swearing Lestrade as he tried to mop up the glass that he had dropped on the floor.

Sherlock shifted and cleared his throat before picking up one of the crime scene photos once more.

"There's something weird about these bruises," he told her as he showed her a photograph of the woman's bruised wrists.

Two days ago, the woman had been found in her flat, her skull bashed in from behind. The window had been broken, so naturally, Lestrade had assumed robbery gone wrong, but Sherlock had felt otherwise. They believed she had been tied up and assaulted before the robbers killed her, giving her the bruises on the wrists they were now looking at.

"I'm not really the person to ask," Kylie told him as she set her scotch down, "Flesh isn't my wheelhouse, remember?"

Sherlock rolled his eyes.

"Flatter me," he told her handing her the photo.

She smiled as she accepted the photo, "You do that to yourself everyday."

Sherlock fought a smile at her sharp whit.

"Well, she had these before she died," Kylie said looking at the bruises.

"Yes, obviously…"

She shot him a look before looking back at the photos.

"What I mean, is that these bruises were a day old before post-mortem."

"How do you know that?"

"Change of color," she responded, "All bruises follow a specific pattern for color change as the blood is reabsorbed back into the capillaries. Even anthropologists know that."

Sherlock smiled as he took a sip of his drink.

She was good…

He saw her frown, "Wait, she was found on the floor right?"

"Yes…"

She looked at him, confusion on her face, "If you were going to assault a woman, why would you tie her hands in front? Why leave her the slight ability to fight back? When you could put her hands underneath her and not give her a single chance to fight back?"

He looked at her in confusion.

"Why would you figure that?"

"Just… trust me," she told him as she avoided his gaze, "they would if they had assaulted her."

He furrowed his eyebrows at her.

"Look at the angle of the bruises though, it was as if someone was holding the rope, or she was hanging from something… like against a wall or a bed…"

She trailed off as she looked at the photos. She had quickly caught on to nearly everything he had found, but it seemed that she was drawing conclusions that he hadn't thought of.

Suddenly, she smiled, as if a revelation had hit her, "I know how she got the bruises."

"How?"

She smiled at him, "Come on, its easier if we prove it," she told him before she pulled him off the couch.

"Where are you two going?" Lestrade asked from the armchair, giving them a knowing smirk.

"To prove a theory," Sherlock said following Kylie down to her flat.

The room upstairs fell into silence.

"Four months," Lestrade said turning to John, "Looks like you are about to win the pool."

***&( *#( (**

Upon entering her flat, Kylie threw the file down on the kitchen table and began digging through the hall closet before bringing out some rope. Kylie cut off a more manageable piece before handing it to Sherlock.

"Tie me up," she told him, holding out her wrists.

Sherlock just looked at her for a moment.

"Tie me up," she said again.

Sherlock obliged, noticing how she let out a shaky breath as her body shook slightly.

"You alright?"

"Fine," she said quickly, covering her fear.

He just looked at her as he finished tying the knot.

"So, the bruising pattern tells us that her hands were above her head," Kylie said trying to get back on the topic of the case, raised her arms above her head.

"She wasn't necessarily hanging from her arms," Sherlock said as he picked up the photos once more, "look at the bruise pattern on her left buttock and upper back."

"So," Kylie told him smiling, "She was up against wall."

"Why on earth would she be tied up against a wall?" he asked her.

Kylie smirked "She liked it rough."

Sherlock gave her a blank look; he still wasn't picking it up. Kylie backed up against the wall, pulling him with her, "She was against the wall like this, with her hands above her head. Someone else was forcing her into the wall…roughly."

"But how did she only get the pattern on one buttock?"

"Like this," Kylie pulled Sherlock closer to her, so that he was pinning her against the wall. He had one hand on the rope, tying her arms, keeping them above her head. Her leg went up and his hand automatically went to it to help keep her balanced.

Sherlock looked at her as he felt the air leave his chest completely.

_God, they were close…_

Their faces were nearly only an inch apart.

"The angle her lover had created the bruising pattern," Kylie whispered to him in a somewhat breathless voice.

He didn't respond. He just stared at her, his eyes searching hers. He had no idea what on earth was going on with him, but she was pulling him closer to her unconsciously like a magnet. He couldnt breath as his eyes flicked down to her lips and he felt himself slowly leaning closer.

Kylie's eyes fluttered shut as her heart was racing out of her chest, leaning in to meet his lips.

Their lips were about to touch, when they heard someone clear their throat from the front door of the flat. Kylie pulled away before their lips could touch, to see who had interrupted them.

Her eyes grew wide as she recognized the person at the door.

"Dad?"

**:D**

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	21. Chapter 21

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**A HUGE thanks to all my amazing reviewers! Here's the next one! Pretty short, but extremely important! **

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"Dad?"

Sherlock stiffened at the words, slowly pulling away from Kylie. Her face had paled slightly and she was staring at the person in the doorway.

That person happened to be Leroy Jethro Gibbs, staring the pair down as he held a knapsack over his shoulder.

It took Kylie a moment for the shock to subside and become very aware of her position… her extremely compromising position with Sherlock.

_Shit…._

"Hey Dad!" she said nervously as she brought her hands down and gently pushed Sherlock away slightly so that they weren't nearly as compromising, "This… this isn't what it looks like."

She stopped and felt the heat rising her to her face while Gibbs kept staring at them silently.

"We were just working a case," Kylie said quickly, "He's a friend," she told him, motioning to Sherlock, "Just a friend… and a colleague… and a friend…"

He just kept staring at the two of them, causing Kylie to squirm while Sherlock just stared back.

Kylie looked between the two of them uncomfortably.

Her marine father was having a staring contest with her slightly difficult friend who she was about to kiss while he held her up against a wall in an extremely compromising position.

…. yeah… this would end well.

"So…" Kylie said trying to get her dad onto another topic… or at least say something. She hated it when he just stared. "… this is Sherlock."

More staring.

"How are you Dad?" she asked in a sickly sweet voice, walking over to him, placing her still tied hands over his head to give him a hug.

Breaking his staring contest with Sherlock, Gibbs put his arms around his daughter kissing the side of her head.

"You two get a little tied up in a case Ky?" Gibbs said with a slight smile on his face as Kylie pulled away from him.

Kylie gave her Dad a look before saying "You've been hanging out way too much with Tony."

Gibbs just smiled at her while gently untying the rope from around her wrists. "Must be some case if you couldn't come home for Christmas."

"So you came to me." Kylie said smiling. "Navy fly you out?"

"Hopped on a C-130 right after work." Gibbs said before turning his attention to the dark haired detective, "Sherlock Holmes," he said as he walked over, holding out his hand, "I've heard a lot about you."

He shifted awkwardly before excepting his hand and forcing a smile on his face, "Pleasure to meet you."

"uh huh," Gibbs said, not convinced of the detectives sincerity.

Gibbs just stared as Sherlock shifted awkwardly before looking at Kylie, silence took over the flat once more.

"So, you've met Sherlock now," Kylie interjected.

"Yep," Gibbs said as he refused to take his eyes off the detective.

"Dad…"

"What?"

"Stop."

"Stop what?"

Kylie glared at her father.

"I should be… getting…back upstairs," Sherlock said in a tone Kylie hadn't heard before, "make sure that they havent destroyed my flat yet, or ruined my experiments," he said bitterly as he walked towards the door.

"I'll be back up in a bit," Kylie told him with a small smile.

Sherlock paused before he put his hand on the knob, turning back to Gibbs, giving him a small smile that he only reserved for the times that either Kylie or John made him comply with social norms.

"It was…" he trailed off, looking at Kylie, "Nice to meet you."

"You too," Gibbs told him.

Sherlock's eyes flicked to Kylie once more, holding her gaze for a moment before he left the room, leaving the two of them alone.

"Wow," Gibbs said turning to his daughter, "That was painful for him."

"Leave him alone Dad," Kylie told him as she smiled, "He barely talks to people on somedays."

"He always talks to you though," Gibbs said with a knowing smile as he sat on the couch.

"We're just friends Dad," Kylie said walking into the kitchen to grab a bottle of whiskey and two glasses.

"Whatever you say Ky."

Kylie set the cups on the table, pouring them each some whiskey.

"We are Dad."

"Okay."

Kylie paused as she sat on the couch next to him.

"I'm glad you're here Dad. I was going to miss spending Christmas with you," Kylie said picking up the glass and taking a sip. "Though a little warning next time would be nice."

Gibbs grinned, "Why? So I cant catch you about to kiss your colleague?"

"We were not about to kiss!" Kylie groaned, "We were trying to figure out how our victim got her bruising pattern."

"Uh-huh…"

"We were."

Gibbs just looked at her, "Just remember Rule number 12."

"Never date a co-worker?" Kylie said looking at him incredulously. "There's nothing between us Dad!"

_There's not… right?_

"Yeah, that's why you look at him in that way."

"What way?"

"The same way your mother used to look at me."

Kylie sighed; there was no winning this argument. She wasn't about to kiss him… she wasnt… she had her own shit to deal with right now. Bringing Sherlock in on it wasn't going to end well.

They sat in silence for a moment before Gibbs took a sip of whiskey before saying, "Thomas came by the other day."

Kylie stopped her hand as it was bringing her cup of whiskey to her lips.

"He told me the two of you broke up and you aren't taking his calls," Gibbs continued, trying to read his daughter.

She was just frozen, staring at her whiskey. She hadn't told her father anything that had happened. She had just told him she had received a new job and left like a coward. She couldn't let him find her.

"Did you tell him where I was?" she asked quietly.

Gibbs looked at her, his fears confirmed. "What happened between the two of you?"

"Did you tell him where I am?" Kylie asked firmly.

"No, Kylie. I did not," Gibbs said getting frustrated. "What happened?"

"Nothing," Kylie said not looking him in the eye and struggling to keep her voice steady, "I got a job, we broke up, and that's it."

"Stop lying to me Kylie," Gibbs said raising his voice. "You become secretive and suddenly move across the globe to take a job out of the blue; one that you didn't even tell me you were applying for right after you break up with your long-term boyfriend? That's not a coincidence."

"You dont believe in coincidences," she told him quietly.

"Stop dancing around the question, Kylie," he growled.

She couldn't look her father in the eye. She loved him. She hated lying to him. And yet, she was choosing to push him away in order to protect him from himself. Only God knew what he would do if he knew the truth.

"I… I cant talk about it," she told him quietly.

"Why not?"

"Because… because I'm not ready to face what really happened, Dad."

Her father paused as he stared at his daughter.

"He hurt you…"

Kylie shut her eyes, allowing a tear to escape.

"What did he do?" Gibbs asked, "He hit you? Cheat on you?"

"Please Dad," she told him, finally meeting his eye, "Please, I am asking you to please drop this. I just need to avoid him and start over. I'll get through the rest."

Gibbs shut his mouth and nodded begrudgingly to his daughter, knowing he wasn't going to get the full story out of her.

"Thank you," she said quietly as she hugged her father.

"I just want to keep you safe," he told his daughter quietly as he returned her embrace.

"I'm safe here, Dad," she told him as she tucked her head into his neck like she did when she was a child.

…Little did she know how wrong she was…

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	22. Chapter 22

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The next morning, Kylie awoke, only to find herself in her bed. She blinked and shut her eyes, wracking her mind to remember exactly how she had gotten there. All she could remember was the Christmas party, talking to Sherlock, looking at the crime scene photos, going down to her flat, Sherlock tying her up, the almost kiss…

Her heart fluttered at the memory. Electricity had flowed through her veins with him so close. Her heart rate had skyrocketed as she had fought to breath. He had been so close that she had felt his heart pounding like a drum from their proximity.

_No… you aren't getting feelings for him. _

This was denial and she knew it, but she had to convince herself. No one had ever made her head spin like this man could. He could challenge her intellectually and physically, and was the only person to ever make her go from being angry enough to hit him one minute, to having her laughing the next, to them locked in a gaze that Kylie couldn't even begin to describe in words. It was glorious, and fascinating… yet it scared the living shit out of her.

It didn't matter though. He didn't date. He had made that clear on multiple occasions, not to mention she was at no place right now to be dating. She was still amazed that she actually trusted people again, but then again, no one here _really_ knew her. She hadn't been lying, she was just conscious not to mention certain things and was unfortunately good at hiding parts of herself from others.

She was healing. It was a process. She needed time, she knew that. But she was afraid that she would never fully recover from what Thomas did to her. He was always in the back of her mind, bringing up the fear, betrayal, and hurt that had made her damaged goods. If she and Sherlock crossed over that borderline of friendship and something more, she would just drag him down into her never-ending black hole of twisted secrets and hurt. Sure, he had figure out parts of it, but she had a feeling he had deduced more about her past than he had let on. The man was a genius; a tall, dark, and extremely handsome genius…

_Good LORD Kylie!_

She shook her head, as if to get the thought of Sherlock out of her head. It wasn't going to happen. She had to get that through her thick skull. It couldn't happen. It was most likely a good thing that her father had ruined their moment last night.

_You wanted that kiss and you know it Kylie…_

_NO! You CAN'T want that kiss. He's a friend. Nothing more. _

_… a total platonic friend. _

_Sherlock doesn't date. He mentioned it once, and John has told you countless times… _

John though… John thought that there was something different between them. He had tried on numerous occasions to subtly extract information from Kylie about their relationship. he seemed to think that there was something there… and he was Sherlock's best friend.

He had never straight-out told Kylie that he thought Sherlock was into her, but he had told her that she was different…

_Different….whatever that means…_

Different could be good or bad. John knew Sherlock better than anyone, and if he told her Sherlock treated her differently, she was going to believe him. Yet she somehow doubted he had been suspicious of the fact that Sherlock was in a relationship, or tried to extract information from a woman about what had happened between them commonly. But, then again… this was Sherlock Holmes…

_He's a red blooded male… he has had relationships before… _

A lot of people said he was incapable of human feelings, but they were wrong. All of them. He had to be the most human, human beings she had ever had the good fortune of meeting. She had seen him on cases. He empathized with the victims and passionately hunted until the correct person was brought to justice. He was exceptionally good at covering this up, but she saw through it; his eyes told it all. Most people saw his stony expression and heard his cold, analytical word, but if you looked into his eyes, you could see that he sincerely felt for each victim.

He really was a good man. A bevy of good men had walked into her life when she needed them the most; John, Sherlock, Lestrade, Dimmock… the list went on. Just when she had lost all faith in justice and the world during her two weeks alone in London before moving to Baker Street, life and Karma proved their significance once more.

Sherlock though…

She just laid in bed for a while longer, staring at the ceiling, reflecting on her previous thoughts.

_God I need to run…_

Running always kept her head on straight, and Lord knows she needed that right now.

Kylie sat up swinging her feet out of bed grabbing a sweatshirt and pulling it on as she walked in the living room to find her Dad making breakfast.

"Morning Dad." Kylie said as she ran a hand through her hair and sat down at the table.

"Morning," Gibbs said as he put some eggs on a plate and handed it to her.

"You sleep okay on the couch?" she asked him as she took a bite of her eggs and he poured her some coffee.

"Yep," he told her, handing her the cup.

She just raised an eyebrow at her father, "You know, I am trying out this new thing called conversation. I know I wasn't raised with it and you most likely dont approve of it, but it can be helpful at times."

Gibbs smirked at his daughter as he took his own plate and plopped himself down across the table from her.

"If I wanted that, I'd get married again."

"If you had conversation, you'd probably have a girlfriend," Kylie countered.

"How do you know I don't?"

"I know people."

"Oh, so you are stalking me now?"

"Checking up on you."

"Mmm," Gibbs said in acknowledgement as they fell into a smirking and comfortable silence as they ate.

"So, its Christmas," Kylie told him with a grin as she took a sip of her coffee.

"It is," Gibbs agreed as he looked at his daughter.

"Since you are here, I wont have to do our tradition alone," she smiled.

"Tradition?"

"Yes, I call it our tradition. Because we have done it since I was in middle school."

"And what's that?" Gibbs asked as a smile pulled on his face.

"Challenge run. 10.8 miles. Loser has to do dishes for the next week. Then Chinese takeout and eggnog. Granted, my eggnog now actually has alcohol in it."

"I hate eggnog."

"Well, when I say eggnog, I mean bourbon in a mug that we say is eggnog to avoid judgmental glares," she shrugged.

Her father laughed as he got up, putting his plate in the sink.

"Good thing I brought my running shoes then."

***&^# (*)( !**

It was Christmas morning and Sherlock Holmes was sitting in his favorite armchair plucking his violin. He had finished solving the current case thanks to Kyle's insight on the bruises. The boyfriend had caught her cheating and hit her in the head with a crowbar before breaking the windows and ransacking the place in order to make it look like a robbery gone wrong.

Bored…. he was bored now.

John had gone off to visit his alcoholic sister and he was just left alone with his thoughts.

He was brought out of his train of thoughts when he heard the front open and shut as Kylie's voice along with her father's filtered up the staircase.

"I'm surprised you were able to keep up with me old man."

"Yeah, well I was a marine you know."

"So it has to do with the coffee?" he heard Kylie joke as she walked into her flat and shut the door.

Sherlock smiled slightly. Kylie was always a smart ass, though it was only with the people she cared about. Kylie cared about everyone to a point, but once you had become a friend, she was loyal till the end. John was the same way. Maybe that is why Kylie had quickly become as close to him as John was.

She was smart though, very smart. Smarter than John, almost as smart as him. She was detailed oriented and picked up on things quickly. Just by working together, she had been picking up on how to deduce thing as he did, and in return she taught Sherlock how to deduce bones. She truly was an amazing woman. Quick on her feet, sharp with her tongue, courageous, strong willed and caring.

He thought back to the night before. He had never experienced anything like that before. His body took over. As soon as she pulled him close and he had felt the softness of her skin his head began to spin and his heart raced and pounded so hard it felt as if it was trying to escape out of his chest. He had gotten lost in those eyes. He had heard the saying once that 'the eyes are the gateway to the soul' and until now, he had thought it was total bollocks. He never had the desire to kiss someone that strongly before. Sure he'd kissed women before, but he had just done it out of reflex, he had never had feelings behind them. He didn't get feelings for others.

Someone walking up the stairs pulled him from his thoughts. A few seconds later, Kylie's father walked into 221B. The man was wearing sweats and a sweat-stained sweatshirt that read NAVY on the front. Sherlock thought that he had seen Kylie wear a similar one before. The men just stared at each other for a second before Gibbs looked around the flat a bit and sat in the armchair opposite of the younger man.

"We need to talk," Gibbs said in his usual quiet tone.

"We do?" Sherlock asked still picking at his violin never breaking eye contact.

"About my daughter."

"What about her?"

"You like her."

Sherlock raised an eyebrow, "No, I don't," he lied.

Gibbs smirked and leaned back into the chair. "Yeah, yeah you do. You just don't know it yet. Neither of you do."

Sherlock set his violin in his lap in annoyance. "How could you possible figure that? I'm assuming Kylie told you we are just friends and colleagues and that is what I'm telling you too. So how are you so certain that he have _feelings_ for each other?" Sherlock spat in annoyance.

Gibbs chuckled at the dark haired man, which made Sherlock slightly angrier.

"What?" Sherlock asked trying to control his temper.

"You tie-up and try to kiss all your colleagues then?"

Sherlock just stared at him.

"I can see the way you look at her, and the way she looks at you," Gibbs said calmly. "It's the same way I looked at her mother."

"You mean before she was killed?"

Gibbs just looked at him for a moment before continuing, "Yeah, before she was killed."

Gibbs paused for another moment before going on, "Once the two of you stop being so goddamn stubborn, you treat her well." He paused once more before staring Sherlock down once more. "Or there will be consequences."

"I don't date," Sherlock said never breaking eye contact with the man. "I consider myself married to my work."

Gibbs chuckled once more, "Yeah, you say that now. But once you get over your fear of your feelings, Kylie is going to be all that matters to you."

"I consider Kylie a friend, and I dont have many of those. I would do anything for her now."

"You'd better start letting people into your life more, otherwise you'll look back and regret it. Trust me."

"You're saying I should let Kylie in?" Sherlock asked to be sure that he was hearing the man correctly.

"I'm saying that my daughter cares about you a great deal. More than I've ever seen her care about someone. She's been through a lot in her life so far, and if you ever add to that hurt, I'll be sure to add to your hurt."

"Is that a threat?"

"When it comes to my daughter, that's a promise."

The older man stood up from the chair just as Sherlock heard Kylie running up the stairs.

"Sherlock? Have you seen my Dad? I jut got out of the shower and he's….Oh."

Kylie walked into 221B, dripping wet from her shower, before she stopped, laying eyes on her father and her friend having a chat.

"Dad," Kylie said in disbelief, "Really? Do you try to chase off all my friends?"

Gibbs chuckled to himself once more as he walked towards Kylie and the door. "Nope," he said as he stopped next to her kissing her temple "Just getting to know them." Gibbs then descended the stair and walked into 221C.

Kylie watched her dad leave and then looked at Sherlock, "Did he interrogate you?"

Sherlock paused for a minuet picking up his violin and plucking at the strings once more, "No, we were just chatting."

Kylie stared at her friend in amazement and confusion.

What the hell had just happened happened?

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	23. Chapter 23

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RING RING RING

Kylie groaned out loud as she hit her phone and rolled over, going back to sleep. She was able to drift back into sleep for another few moments before her phone began ringing again.

"Stop!" she whined as she hit her phone once more, stopping the ringing.

She hugged her pillow once more, trying to settle back down into it. She felt herself drifting back off before she heard scuffling upstairs, and a moment later, footsteps pounding down the staircase.

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

She groaned once more, shoving her face back into her pillow. It was Saturday. She didn't have work and she planned on sleeping in, rest of the outside world be damned. Her father had left early that morning and Kylie had spent all night talking with him. She had dropped him off only a few hours ago, and she missed him already.

Kylie was pulled out of her sleep by the sound of someone scratching at her lock before she heard her door creak open. Footsteps sounded in her flat, slowly approaching her door.

Adrenaline surged through her veins as she heard the floorboards creak right outside her bedroom door.

She gripped the Glock she slept with under her pillow.

The bedroom door creaked open and a tall figure moved stealthily into the room, creeping towards her bed. She lay still for a moment, silently removing the safety as her heart nearly pounded out of her chest.

_He had found her…._

The person reached her bed and slowly reached out for her. With one swift movement, Kylie sat up with her gun, grabbed the person's arm and twisted it behind their back, consequently tackling them to the floor. Kylie sat on top of the person, straddling them so they couldn't move while putting the barrel of her gun in the person's back.

"Bloody Hell," another voice said as the lights were switched on in the room. Kylie looked up at the door to see John gaping at her.

She frowned at him. If John was here, who was this?

Kylie looked down to find a dark blue jacket and a head of dark curls that she was shoving down into her floorboards.

"Sherlock?" Kylie said in shock.

"Mpfh, mmpfh," came a muffled response from the floor.

"Oh," Kylie said realizing what he was trying to say and climbing off of him, "Sorry."

"Were you sleeping with a gun under your pillow?" John asked as Sherlock sat up, rubbing his neck.

"Uh… yes?" she told him sheepishly.

"Remind me never to wake you," John told her.

She smiled at him before her smiled faded, a thought dawning on her.

"Wait, how the hell did you guys get into my flat?" she said getting agitated by the men's' sudden, and unexpected presence in her flat. "Why the hell are you in my flat to begin with?"

"We have a case," Sherlock said standing up and straightening his attire.

"Lestrade called you a couple times and you weren't answering your door," John said.

"So you decided it would be best to pick my lock?" Kylie asked raising her eyebrows at the two men.

"We were worried," Sherlock said matter-of-factly staring down at her as she still remained on the floor tangled in her blanket. He leaned down to help her up, "Come on, we have a crime scene to get to."

**# % ^&#*% ^**

"I DON'T understand how it took you twenty minutes to get ready!" Sherlock said as he got out of the cab angrily, slamming the door shut behind him, "Now Anderson's got his filth all over my crime scene.

Kylie just stepped out of the cab rolling her eyes, making large strides to catch up with him, "I got ready as fast as I could Sherlock."

"Wasn't fast enough. What do you do for twenty minuets in a bathroom anyway?"

Kylie opened her mouth to retort before John gave her a sharp look, "Let it go. He'll argue this to the grave."

Kylie shut her mouth and sighed loudly, allowing Sherlock to mutter to himself as they crossed the crime scene tape and walked over to Lestrade.

"Bout time you lot got here!" Lestrade said upon seeing them approach, "I thought you guys would never get here."

Kylie opened her mouth to respond before Sherlock cut her off.

"We would have been here sooner if someone hadn't taken so long." he said bitterly as he walked towards a tree in which Anderson and a few others from the forensic squad were gathered.

Lestrade raised an eyebrow looking at Kylie, who just shook her head and held up her hand, obviously irritated.

"Don't get me started," she told him as she began to walk towards the body,only to stop and turn around, "Oh, and thanks for sicking Tuner and Hooch on me by the way."

Lestrade smirked at her, "You weren't answering your phone," he told her as he crossed his arms, grinning at her, "Turner and Hooch? Cop and his dog, police show?"

"Yeah, I think its fitting for the two of them."

John glared at her.

"Which one's the cop and which one's the dog?"

Kylie glanced over at Sherlock who was on all fours next to their newest murder victim, leaning forward and most likely sniffing the body, much to the displeasure of Anderson.

"Who do you think?" she smiled as she turned back to Lestrade.

He laughed and John fought a chuckle as Kylie donned gloves and walked over to the tree.

Lestrade and John watched her kneel down next to Sherlock, looking at the body, as Anderson stormed away angrily.

"How pissed was she that you guys woke her up?" Lestrade asked John.

"You mean that when Sherlock reached to wake her up, she flipped him, pinned him tot eh floor and nearly put a bullet in his back?"

Lestrade turned and looked at her in blatant shock.

"Yeah," John sighed, "She sleeps with a gun."

John then walked over the body as well, leaving Lestrade in a state of shock.

He walked over to the tree to find a woman slumped, dead against a tree. She was dressed in ball gown, but it wasn't your typical ball gown. It was fluffy, impractical, like the ones little girls used to dress up as princesses with matching white gloves.

Princess… that would make sense.

The woman looked perfect (other than the fact that she was dead). Her makeup was flawless, her hair was curled in ringlets, while a small tiara had been perched on top of it.

"Her name is Susan Wiley," Lestrade said as he walked over, looking at his notes. "No wallet, no ID, but we were able to make an ID off her prints. She's secretary at a law firm in Central London."

"Any idea why she's dressed like this?" Kylie asked from her spot as she knelt next to Sherlock, who was still examining the body.

"No, none at all," Lestrade said.

"John, can you tell us cause of death?" Kylie said as she stood up.

John just raised an eyebrow at her, causing her to look down at Sherlock. He was still hovering over the body and there was no way he would be able to see anything if he knelt down.

Kylie rolled her eyes and grabbed Sherlock by the jacket yanking him upwards "Now let the other kids have a turn," she sad condoning him as if he was a child. "Sharing is caring," she added with a grin after Sherlock gave her a glare.

John squatted down by the body and began examining the girl as Lestrade gave an amused chuckle at the pair. After about a minute of checking the young woman's pupils, mouth, and her right hand, John looked up at the group around him.

"She was poisoned, Arsenic most likely."

"That's what I suspected." Sherlock said as he bent down to the body once more.

"No it wasn't," Kylie said, calling his bullshit.

Sherlock glared at her and opened his mouth to argue back before Lestrade cut him off.

"How'd you get that? Our own M.E. couldn't figure out what substance it was," Lestrade asked John.

"She has foam around her mouth, mostly likely from a seizure she had upon acute intoxication. She also has these white marks on her finger nails known as leukonychia which is a definitive sign of arsenic poisoning." John told as he lifted her left hand to show the group.

As he lifted her hand, a piece of paper dropped onto the ground.

Sherlock stopped and pulled away from the body, bringing his attention to the note. John reached down to pick up the note as he slowly stood up to allow Lestrade and Kylie to see as he read allowed:

_What slew none, yet slew twelve?_

Sherlock gently took the paper from John, examining it thoroughly. The paper was small, expertly cut into a perfect rectangle before being folded and shoved into the dead girl's hand. It was scrawled in neat calligraphy.

Kylie however, was frowning and staring at the ground, lost in her own thoughts.

"Its a riddle," Lestrade commented in shock.

"I've heard it before," Kylie said quietly, "I can't remember where, but I have definitely heard it before."

John opened his mouth to comment when Sherlock, who wasn't listening to a single thing being said, interrupted John before he could even speak.

"This paper is from imitation stationary. The kind you get when you want someone to think it's nice, yet you didn't pay much for it. This was written by a man, and educated man."

"Educated man?" Lestrade asked.

"Yes of course an educated man," Sherlock said curtly.

"You just should have let him run with it," John told him.

Sherlock looked at the paper for another minute before grabbing an evidence bag, placing the letter inside of it and handing it to Lestrade.

"We need to get to Bart's," Sherlock said as he walked away.

John and Kylie watched his retreating form for a moment before Kylie turned to Lestrade.

"The body will be at Bart's then?"

"JOHN! KYLIE!" Sherlock yelled as he walked away, beckoning them.

"Yeah..," Lestrade said as he watched a now huffing Sherlock that his two friends were following him like ducklings.

"Thanks," Kylie said before she and John hurried after Sherlock.

"I just wish he'd give us some warning sometimes before he just hurries off," Kylie said in a huff as they hustled to keep up with him.

"It's those damn long legs of his," John said as the two of them hopped into the police cruiser Sherlock had already stepped into.

Kylie gave John a grin, "And I thought I was the only one who noticed his legs."

John rolled his eyes, "Oh God, not you too!" John gave her a stare before sighing to himself and looking out the window "Why is it that everyone thinks I'm gay?" he said more to himself than anyone else in the cruiser.

Kylie laughed to herself as Sherlock turned and gave him a puzzled look, "Noticed whose legs?"

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	24. Chapter 24

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**Here's the next one! Enjoy!**

"You do realize that we always end up at the morgue, only to wait around for a couple of hours waiting for the body to show up?" Kylie asked as they walked into the lab above the morgue.

"We're here to think," Sherlock said taking off his coat and scarf.

"About what?" Kylie asked, "The body isn't here yet we have no evidence to examine, what are we going to look at?"

"The RIDDLE Kylie! The Riddle." Sherlock said as he began pacing

She just stared at him for a moment.

"Oh, of course, how could I have been so stupid," Kylie said sarcastically, looking at John and rolling her eyes.

"I'm telling you," John said as he plopped himself down in one of the chairs, "You just have to go with it and keep the sarcastic comments at a minimum volume so he doesn't notice them. I learned this all the hard way."

"What slew none, yet slew twelve," Sherlock muttered under his breath, repeating it to himself over and over, "What slew none, yet slew twelve."

The group fell into silence as Kylie sat down on one of the stools, as Sherlock kept pacing.

_What slew none, yet slew twelve…_

"Damn," she muttered, racking her brain for answers, "I know I have heard it somewhere before."

Sherlock's head snapped towards her, "You've heard it before?"

"Yeah, I just wish I could remember where I head it."

Sherlock walked over to where she was seated and spun the chair so she was square facing him.

"Sherlock what are…."

"Sshh." Sherlock said hushing Kylie as he knelt down in front of her and placing two fingers at each if her temples.

John just raised his eyebrows at the pair.

"Close your eyes," Sherlock commanded.

"What? Why?" Kylie asked, slightly alarmed and confused at what was happening.

_He was so close… God, his eyes were gorgeous…_

She could barely breath as the electricity flowing from his fingertips to her veins were turning things inside of her. Her heart was fluttering as she looked at him… not beating. Fluttering.

His fingers began to gently rub her temples, massaging them and causing her body to instantly relax.

"Just close your eyes. I need you to remember. This is a memory technique shown to help long-term memory function," he told her softly.

Kylie allowed her eyes to flutter shut. His hands were so soft and gentle, definitely the hands of a musician or scientist. His touch was completely electrifying; soft, but electrifying. She could hardly focus on the task at hand with her heart beating this fast.

"Think back Ky," he told her quietly.

"Ky?" John whispered in shock, wondering when on earth Sherlock had EVER shortened anyone's name. Did his friend just come up with a pet name for a woman?

Sherlock chose to ignore John as he continued to focus his attention on Kylie.

"Think Ky."

Kylie felt her body relax once more and her memories begin to swirl. Her mind was racing.

She was 16 years old and learning how to drive.

She was 20 and graduating from college.

She was 5 and sitting on her mother lap on their porch.

Suddenly her mind paused on a memory. The same one in which she had reflected on a couple of months before. She was in the morgue with Ducky a book of fairy tales in hand. Then it hit her…

She remembered…

Her eyes shot open, only to find Sherlock a couple inches away from her, staring into her eyes; blue on blue.

She was breathing heavily as he slowly lowered his hands from her temple, lowering on onto the arm of the chair, as he gently brushed a stray hair out of her face; his eyes never leaving hers.

They just stared at each other, frozen by each other's gaze.

"Do you two want me to leave, or…" John began awkwardly as he looked between the two of them.

"Fairy tale," Kylie said breathlessly to Sherlock, "Its from a fairy tale called 'The Riddle'. I used to read it as a kid."

Sherlock smiled at her as his fingers unknowingly ran through her hair as he put it behind her ear, out of her face.

_Why was her hair so soft? Why did he want to run his fingers through it?_

"Good," he smiled at her softly, causing her to blush and smile in return.

John looked between his two friends incredulously. He knew they were both into each other, but he never thought he would witness this.

The silence kept going on as they were both locked in some sort of trance.

"Hamish," John blurted out, redirecting the pair's attention to him, "John Hamish Watson… Just in case you two were looking for baby names."

Kylie just gave John a blank confused stare as Sherlock stood up and wandered over to a computer, googling the story.

"If I remember correctly the story is about a prince and his servant who stumble upon a witch in the dark forest and end up spending the night in her cottage. The next night, the witch gave his servant a poisonous drink along with his horse, killing them both," Kylie began to describe as she walked over and began to read over his shoulder.

"He found a raven eating the horse, which killed the raven and the prince picked it up and took it with him. He arrived at an inn in which he gave the innkeeper the raven, who made food out of it. The inn happened to be actually a robbers' den and upon eating the raven, 12 robbers died.

Continuing on their journey, the prince came across a princess who claimed that she would marry any prince who could give her a riddle she could not solve, so he asked her, 'what slain none, yet slew twelve?' " Sherlock finished, sitting back in the chair deep in thought.

"What, so this nut bag dresses this girl up like a princess and reenacts a fairy tale?" John asked puzzled.

"Apparently," Kylie stated looking back at the screen. "I don't think this story has anything to do with why the girl was murdered, I just think were dealing with a nut-job."

"This is going to be a serial killer," Sherlock said quietly to himself.

Sherlock was pulled from his train of thought as John's phone rang. He fumbled through his pockets for it pulling it out and frowning at the screen.

"Mrs. Hudson," John said to Kylie and Sherlock before answering it. "Hello? What! Okay Mrs. Hudson calm down. Listen, are you hurt? Okay I'll call Lestrade we're on our way now."

Sherlock and Kylie looked at John expectantly as he hung up the phone. "There's been a break in at Baker Street. Apparently our entire front door has been mauled down."

"What?" Kylie said trying to process the information as Sherlock just got up and walked out the door, jacket and scarf in tow.

"Yeah, come on," John said as the pair of the followed Sherlock out.

**^&$ #%^&&**

The group reached Baker Street, only to find a nearly hysterical Mrs. Hudson waiting for them on the front steps.

"Oh, Thank goodness you lot are here!" she said as she shakily stood.

"Mrs. Hudson are you alright?" Sherlock said looking the older woman over quickly.

"..I… I'm fine dear I've just had a fright," she said as her hands shook.

"John, look Mrs. Hudson over," Sherlock ordered as he walked inside.

Kylie rubbed Mrs. Hudson's arm before giving her a sympathetic smile and following Sherlock inside, leaving John to looked her over.

They walked in the flat expecting the worst, but found the hall to look completely normal, other than the fact there was no door of course.

Sherlock then bounded up the stairs, two at a time to 221B. They walked through the door and Kylie looked around.

"Its unscathed," she said looking around in confusion.

"They came in here for a reason," Sherlock said as his eyes racked over the flat, looking for any sign of disturbance, "They wanted something…" he trailed off as his eyes connected with Kylie's.

He stared at her for a moment before he pushed past her, walking out the door and down the stairs.

"Sherlock, where are you going?" she asked as she hustled down the steps to catch up to him as he was inspecting the door to 221C.

"It's not mine," she told him, "No one knows me here."

"Kylie…"

"I mean didn't you tell me that Mrs. Hudson's ex-husband used to run a drug cartel? This could easily be them…"

She trailed off as Sherlock pressed two fingers on her front door, gently pushing it, swinging it open. The lock had been broken, and it was with in that moment, that Kylie knew her flat was indeed the target.

There was blood everywhere; it looked something out of a horror movie. Blood covered the walls and was pooled on the floor. Kylie's heart sank as she saw a woman, dressed in a white nightgown in the middle of her floor, leaning up against her couch. A massive pool of blood surrounded her and an arrow stuck out at the middle of her chest. Her unblinking eyes staring at the two of them. Kylie's throat tightened as her eyes moved up the wall to find a message written in blood.

FOUND YOU

BE MINE KALES

"Its him," she breathed, her eyes wide and her face paled with fear as the one name she never wanted to utter again rolled off her tongue, "Thomas."

_He had found her…._

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	25. Chapter 25

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**Here's a heavy chapter for you guys…. hahah sorry!**

"It's him," Sherlock heard Kylie say upon seeing the horror that waited in her flat.

He looked at her, she was pale, paler than he'd ever seen her. She was usually confident, brave, and witty… this however was pure fear. her hands were beginning to shake as if she'd seen a ghost from her post.

"Thomas," she uttered quietly before he knees began to wobble.

"Kylie," Sherlock said trying to keep her upright as he was afraid she would pass out by how pale she was.

Upon feeling something solid and steady holding her, she grabbed onto him, still staring at her flat.

He gave the flat one last look before gently pulling her away from the door, trying to get her to take her eyes off her flat.

"Come on," he told her gently.

Next thing Sherlock knew, Kylie had turned and clothed on to him as if he were a life preserver, burring her face in the crook of his neck; clinging to him.

He stiffened at the fact that this woman was hugging him, but as soon as he felt how badly this strong woman's body was trembling in fear, his heart broke for her. She was frightened, frightened out of her mind. His mind began racing. She had seen crime scenes worse than this, granted those weren't even in her own flat, but she had never been this frightened before.

He felt her knees wobble and he wrapped his arms around her, holding her up before he slowly lowered the both of them to the ground, out of fear that she would collapse.

Sherlock heard sirens approaching Baker Street as he sat on the floor, pulling Kylie closer to his chest, rubbing her back and stroking her hair in attempt to calm her. He usually hated when people became irrational with fear and emotion. It annoyed him. It always had. But this… he felt as if he wanted to comfort her; he wanted to make her feel better. She didn't deserve to be afraid.

_What on earth was she so scared of?_

_Who was Thomas? _

_….her ex… Thomas must be her ex…_

Of course, it was so obvious, he threatened her. That's why she had moved to London in the first place. He hadn't expected him to be a killer, but logically, it only made sense. He had seen her on cases. She never showed a shred of fear unless it had to do with her past.

He looked down at the trembling woman in his arms, a swell of anger towards this psychopath rose in his chest.

_That bastard hurt her…. He hurt her in more ways than one._

Sherlock slowly kissed her temple, running a hand through her soft hair, pulling her tighter to him, "I wont let him near him near you. I promise."

He felt Kylie clutch him tighter in response.

Lestrade and John entered 221 Baker Street, leaving Mrs. Hudson with the paramedics, only to freeze in their tracks, seeing Sherlock sitting on the floor, leaning up against the hallway with Kylie in his lap, clutching onto him for dear life.

Both men felt their blood run cold. They had never seen Kylie lose it like this. They had been on some horrific crime scenes, truly terrible scenes… but how on earth did a break in frighten her like this?

That wasn't the weirdest thing though…not even close. The strangest part was, was that Sherlock Holmes had a woman in his lap, holding her tightly and attempting to comfort her. He looked up at them, anger and hurt in his eyes.

John knew from that look, that something was immediately wrong. The detective never allowed his emotions to show through.

"What happened?" John asked quietly.

"Her ex," Sherlock quietly said, motioning to her flat as he tightened his arms around Kylie.

_Why did this feel … good?_

_You are comforting a friend. That's why. _

_…or trying to be a knight in shining armor…_

_Shut up…_

Sherlock looked up to see John and Lestrade push Kylie's door open, revealing the scene that had been left in her flat.

"Good Lord," Lestrade said to himself under his breath as he tried to take in the scene.

John was stunned. He looked at Sherlock who had gone back to trying to comfort Kylie and whispering something to her softly as he tried to coax her into pulling her head out of the crook of his neck and look at him.

"How do you know her ex did this?" Lestrade asked stunned.

Sherlock looked up at Lestrade, "Its what she said when she saw the scene," he told him, not able to stop his hands from running through her hair.

"How did she know though?" Lestrade asked.

"I would guess by the writing in blood on the wall," John said as he looked at the scene in shock.

"But still, she's put people in prison," Lestrade said, lowering his voice as to try to hide his skepticism from Kylie, "I mean she probably isn't enemy free. And I doubt she's the type to date a psychopath."

"Apparently, I am," Kylie said meekly as she slowly pulled her head from Sherlock's neck, wiping the tears that were running down her face.

"Thomas was the only one who called me Kales," she continued, "It's him. Its definitely him."

Lestrade softened, he hadn't meant for her to overhear that. He knelt down next to her and Sherlock as compassion for his young anthropologist took over.

"Kylie, we have to get a crime scene unit in here. We also need to get a statement from you."

She shut her eyes and nodded, "Yeah… okay."

"Do you want to do it now? Are you up for talking?"

"No," Sherlock interjected protectively, "She's not talking to you right now."

"He's right," John told Lestrade, "She needs to rest."

"No," she said as she sat up, gently pulling herself out of Sherlock's arms, "I just want to get this over with."

"You sure you are up for talking?" John asked gently, "I mean you've had quite a shock. This can wait…"

"No," she said shaking her head, "I just want to get this… over with."

Sherlock couldn't stop his hand from reaching out and rubbing her back, trying to calm her once more. She wiped her eyes and gave him a small smile in thanks.

"Okay," John said, looking at Lestrade as if to give his doctor's approval, "Can we just do this upstairs in our flat?"

"Of course," Lestrade said as he stood up, "There's no need to go all the way down to Scotland Yard."

"Alright, come on then," John said as he bent down to help Kylie up, allowing Sherlock to get up as well.

Kylie stopped outside her door, staring at the poor woman who had been killed in her flat.

_Thomas was back. He had found her. He had killed this poor girl just to prove a point…_

"Ky," Sherlock said quietly, as he touched her back gently, urging her to walk past the door, "Come on, there's nothing you can do."

Lestrade gaped at what was occurring before him as he watched his consulting detective soothe his anthropologist. He never had seen Sherlock act this tender towards another person, let alone so patient with someone's emotions.

She stared for a moment longer before nodding and allowing Sherlock to nudge her towards the staircase. Sherlock gave Lestrade a look before following her up the staircase.

Lestrade looked at John incredulously, out of pure shock.

"Yeah, I know," John said before he followed them up.

Lestrade stood there for a moment before shaking his head and walking up the stair case and into 221B.

Once upstairs, Lestrade found John in the kitchen making tea, while Kylie stood in the middle of the flat, lost in her own thoughts. Sherlock walked back in the room with a blanket and stared at her.

She was staring at the ground vacantly.

_She wasn't safe. No one around her was safe…_

"Ky," Sherlock said, pulling her out of her thoughts, causing her to look at him as if she just realized he was there, "Come on," he said gently as he took her hand, leading her over to the couch and putting the blanket around her before he sat down next to her.

Lestrade couldn't help but fight a grin. The situation was dire; they had a serial killer with an eye for their friend… and yet he couldn't help but smile at how the man who defined himself a sociopath taking care of a woman.

John came out of the kitchen handing her a cup of tea, which she accepted thankfully. Her hands were still shaking as she took a sip, slightly spilling some of the tea. Embarrassed, Kylie set the cup down on the table.

"Alright Kylie," Lestrade said as he sat down in an armchair, pulling out his notepad, "What can you tell us about your ex?"

"Take your time," John said as he sat in the armchair opposite of Lestrade.

Kylie shut her eyes and ran a hand through her hair. She didn't want to go into this. She had run for a reason. But he had murdered at least one girl, and that was ignorantly thinking he hadn't been the person behind the princess case as well. She had no choice but to open up her past.

"I met Thomas Moore four years ago, about six months after I finished graduate school," she told the group as she stared at her mug of tea, "I was working for the FBI at the time, when my partner and I came across a case that happened to overlap with a CIA operation. Thomas had just entered the CIA, and was assigned to us as a CIA liaison in order to keep us out of the operation and to give us enough information to solve the case."

"So, a glorified babysitter?" Lestrade inquired.

Kylie laughed sadly, "Yes, pretty much. The CIA tends to want to control everything." She paused and leaned forward before continuing, "Needless to say, Thomas and I hit it off. He was smart, witty, and charming. I hadn't really dated seriously before, and it was something different, he wouldn't let it go. Kept asking me out until I finally gave in and went out with him. I ended up liking him, and we started dating a few weeks after the case was first eight months of our relationship were wonderful. I fell for him, hard."

She paused and looked down at her hands, trying to calm her emotions, "Everything was wonderful until he was promoted and became a field agent. He was sent to Moscow for three months and when he came back… he was, well different. He was colder, more distant. He wasn't the same man I had been dating, the one who I fell in love with. I attributed it to PTSD with his first mission abroad. he began having nightmares, and one night he pulled a gun on me in my sleep. We broke up for a short time, and my Dad and I were able to convince him to get some therapy. Once he completed it, we got back together."

"He wasn't the same though. He didn't have anymore nightmares, but he was secretive, extremely secretive. Secretive evolved into possessive and jealous. He started demanding me home at certain times, certain clothes of mine would go missing when he stayed over. I figured it was something he was dealing with fem being in the CIA. God knows they have enough secrets. But it wasn't just about work with him anymore. I noticed he began spending more time at work, even though he told me he didn't have any cases. He wanted me at his apartment all the time, saying it was to ensure my safety, but I…" she trailed off sighing, shaking her head, "I knew better."

"I let it go for a while, too long in fact. I felt myself pulling away from him, despite my stubbornness to stay with him. I knew there was something off, but I convinced myself it was all in my head. It wasn't until I noticed Thomas beginning to buy a lot of expensive things, things that were way out of his price range. That seemed to snap me out of my denial. I was trying to convince myself that I needed to trust him and let him work it out, as stupid and naive as that sounds. It was only with the over spending, that I finally broke down and used my connections at the FBI to ask a friend at the CIA about it, only to find out he had been let go from the CIA three months before that."

"He had apparently gone rogue and gotten too close to an international crime boss. The only reason the CIA hadn't killed him yet, was because they were trying to extract info from him along with about five other major countries and was on every major watch list, the FBI, NCIS, and every other domestic bureau purposely kept in the dark, leaving me about it in the dark as well. Thomas… he hadn't told me any of this. He had been lying to me the moment he had gotten back from Moscow. I went to confront him about it and…. well, lets just say it went badly."

She paused for a moment, struggling to gather herself. Taking a shaky breath and shutting her eyes before continuing.

"I came home that night and he was slightly drunk. It was our four year anniversary. He and made dinner for us and told me that that night was going to be 'special'. I asked him why he hadn't told me about the falling out with the CIA. He kept ignoring me and kept trying to seduce me. I kept telling him to stop kissing me and answer my questions when he literally threw me against the wall. That's when I started to freak out. I grabbed my gun to try to get him away from me, but he had removed and taken the firing pin."

She stopped, her voice was shaking so badly she could barely talk.

"That's when he attacked me. I was beaten pretty badly in the struggle. I blacked out somewhere along the way, I think he hit me in the head with a bookend. I woke up hours later gagged and handcuffed to the bed… where he… uh… he uh… choked and raped me… repeatedly."

She paused as tears streamed down her face while she struggled to stay in control.

"I… uh… died five times. He choked me to death five times while he was raping me. I woke up every time hoping I had died each time, only to find him reviving me, so he could do it all over again."

"Jesus Kylie," Lestrade muttered as John had his head in his hands in disbelief that this had happened to his friend. Sherlock however continued staring at her, unmoving.

"While he was doing this, he kept telling me that if I ran or told anyone, he and his boss would hunt me down and destroy me. He admitted to me all about how he left the CIA and gone rogue, saying that money was in the side of the devil. he had been undercover with this crime boss and been made that he was CIA. This guy convinced him to switch sides and act as his mole in the CIA. Once the CIA found out, and every world power was fighting over him, he began to do his own bidding. He told me about how he killed an entire village in Morocco just to help keep the war in the Middle East alive. He was a completely different man. … He was a deranged psychopath, not the man I had once been in love with."

She shook her head, avoiding every eye in the room.

"The next morning, I was able to get out when I heard him leave for something. As soon as I did, I packed my things and ran, lying to my Dad and telling him I got a job interview. I hopped on the first flight out of the country, which happened to be to London. I hid out here for a few weeks in a hotel, trying to heal and get my bruises to fade and my ribs and skull to heal before I applied for the job at the Yard. I was able to cover my tracks pretty well, buying four different plane tickets and paying for the one to London in cash, plus with some help from favors I cashed in at the FBI, I disappeared. I haven't told anyone the truth. My own father has no idea what happened. I know that Thomas still works for this psychopath, and has been asking my father where I am, but other than that, I have no clue what he has been up to."

Silence took over the flat, as Kylie's companions attempted to absorb the information she had just given them.

"Did he ever tell you who he was working for?" Sherlock asked, getting a glare from both Lestrade and John.

"Jesus Sherlock," John condoned, "Timing!"

"Its fine John. I want normalcy, I don't want pity," Kylie told them as she wiped her eyes, before she looked at Sherlock, wracking her mind, "Yeah, he mentioned his name. I think it was James or Jim Moriarty."

John dropped his cup of tea while Sherlock paled and sat up perfectly straight, both in stunned silence.

**Thoughts? **

**Review?**


	26. Chapter 26

**Thanks so much you guys! Seriously you guys are amazing. I didn't think I would have this much support so early on! I really REALLY appreciate it!**

Kylie looked at everyone else in the room, "Why? Does that mean something to you guys?"

"Moriarty?" Sherlock breathed, "Are you sure?"

"Positive," she told him as she trailed off quietly, "Its a little hard to forget that night."

The room was silent once more before John broke it, "So why did Moriarty involve himself with Thomas? He usually just pays these people off."

"He was paying Thomas off," Kylie told him, "Are you guys familiar with this Moriarty guy?"

"He's a consulting criminal," Sherlock said as he leaned back putting his hands together and assuming his thinking pose.

"He believes that Sherlock is his playmate," John said, then seeing Kylie's confused face added, "He's Sherlock's nemesis."

Kylie slowly turned to Sherlock with her eyebrows raised, "You have a nemesis?"

"You have a crazy ex," Sherlock retorted still remaining in his thinking pose.

Kylie just stared at him for a moment before looking down while John gave Sherlock an exasperated look.

"Sherlock!"

"It's true," she said quietly before standing up, "I need to get some stuff out of my flat and find a hotel. I'm assuming that my flat will be a crime scene for a while."

Sherlock's head snapped quickly towards her, snapping him out of his thoughts, "You're absolutely not staying at a hotel."

Kylie looked at him in slight shock, while Lestrade and John raised an eyebrow at him.

A small smile came over the doctor's face as he turned to Kylie, "What he means is, is that we would really like you to stay with us."

"He's after you," Lestrade told her, "Its best if you stay with these two. Plus I'll put some officers outside Baker Street."

"You'll be safe here," John told her with a comforting smile.

She swallowed, fighting tears at her friends' gestures and kindness before she nodded and sat back down, "Thanks guys."

She picked up her tea, her hands still shaking, slopping tea out the sides once more, setting it in her lap as she attempted to calm her body.

"We aren't going to be able to let you back in your flat, or on the case, but I'll have Donovan get some of your things and bring them up," Lestrade told her as he got up.

"Thanks Greg."

"Not a problem," he told her as he walked over and leaned down, kissing her forehead before walking out of the flat, going down to the crime scene below.

She just stared at her cup of tea, attempting to take a sip of it as her hands shook badly.

"You need to sleep," John said as he walked up the small staircase to his bedroom, disappearing into it before walking back down with his doctor bag.

"I'm not taking anything John," she told him, "The last thing I want to do is sleep when my flat is a crime scene and Thomas is in London killing women."

"You need to relax," John told her, "You are already running on near zero sleep, and running yourself into exhaustion isn't going to help."

"I need to help with this case."

"You can't, Lestrade says you're off."

"It's Thomas killing these girls…"

"So you have a moral responsibility to stop him?"

"Yes!"

"No, you don't," Sherlock interrupted, sitting up and turning to face her, "You didn't murder those girls. You didn't drive Thomas to kill them. He's a psychopath. He's after you and he's not your problem, nor your responsibility."

Kylie stared at him.

"He killed these women to get my attention," she told him quietly.

"Then don't give him what he wants," he told her.

She looked at him for a moment longer, before dropping her gaze back down tea.

"John's right, you need to rest," he told her, "Doctor's orders."

Kylie shut her eyes and let out a laugh, smiling slightly.

"Alright, fine," she said as Sherlock took her tea, setting it on the table before getting up and allowing Kylie to lay out on the couch as John filled a syringe, wiping her arm with alcohol as Sherlock watched carefully.

"We'll be right here," John told her before he inserted the needle.

"Thanks guys, I mean it," she said quietly as she felt the drugs hit her system. It was only a moment before she was fast asleep on the couch, wrapped in the blanket Sherlock had brought her earlier.

John looked up to see Sherlock walking back in his bedroom, coming back out with his comforter, placing it over Kylie, covering her completely.

John bit his tongue as he watched his friend stare at the woman fast asleep on his couch. It was heart-warming seeing his flatmate care for the woman, making sure that she was completely covered with the blanket and settled before turning towards John.

He opened his mouth to speak before John cut him off.

"I won't let her leave my sight," he told him with a small smile, "Go get some evidence so we can catch this son of a bitch."

Sherlock just closed his mouth and nodded, walking towards the door. He put his hand on the door knob before he stopped and turned back to the doctor.

"John, uh… thanks," he said awkwardly before glancing once more at Kylie and walking out the door.

A small smile covered John's face as he picked up his doctor bag and set it on the table before fishing his gun out of the desk, taking a seat in the chair next to the couch. He glanced at a sleeping Kylie as he let his mind reflect on the tale he had just heard from her. he would have never guessed. She hid her pain and hurt well.. frighteningly well.

She didn't deserve that. Not the pain, not the secrets; none of it. He just hoped that they could catch this bastard, hang him out to dry, so his friend could start to heal.

**&^*(#& (# ^& **

Sherlock walked into the crime scene, that was Kylie's flat, taking in the whole scene. Anderson was standing over the woman's body, taking photographs as Lestrade took notes on his notepad.

"You alright?" Lestrade asked, looking at the detective.

"Yes, of course I'm alright," Sherlock said looking around the flat "Why wouldn't I be?" he said as he walked towards the body.

"Maybe because your girlfriend walked into her flat to a dead body and a threat on her life?" Anderson said as he stood up from the body.

"Anderson," Sherlock said closing his eyes in pure annoyance, "She is not my girlfriend. Now, for God's sake, will you shut up while I am trying to work."

The room went silent as Anderson looked at Sherlock before looking at Lestrade, rolling his eyes.

Lestrade still stared at him before looking back down at his notepad, "You two may not have made definitions yet, but she's most definitely your girlfriend, mate."

Sherlock looked up from the body to glare at him before returning his attention back to the body.

The woman was blond, mid thirties. She had been dressed in a nightgown and was laid out in an almost angelic form. Her blond hair surrounded her. A golden arrow went straight into her heart, most likely cause of death.

"Beautiful, isn't she?" Lestrade muttered, "Damn shame. We don't have an ID on her yet."

"Try the beauty pageant circuit," Sherlock said as he noticed a piece of paper clamped in her hand.

"How'd you get that?"

"Lots of makeup, botox, perfectly manicured nails and eyebrows, while the only lines on her face are smile lines? Most definitely beauty pageant contestant," he said as he worked the paper out of her hand.

Sherlock finally worked the paper free before standing up to read the poem aloud.

_"The evil done and anxious to repair,_

_He shed in haste the balmy drops of joy_

_O'er all the silky ringlets of her hair;_

_Then stretched his plumes divine, and breathed celestial air."_

"What in the hell does that mean?" Lestrade asked as Donovan walked into the room carrying a suitcase full of Kylie's things.

"That her ex is a psychopath," she said as she set down case in the kitchen, crossing her arms and gazing at the scene, "must be her thing…"

Lestrade shot her a glare, as Sherlock ignored her completely.

"It must be a message to Kylie," he muttered as he began inspecting the paper once more, "Everything else in this room is a message to her. So, logically, this should be too. Must be a bit from a poem of some sort."

He stared at the wall for a moment before shoving the paper at Lestrade, pulling out his phone and began typing the quote in, doing an internet search.

"This guy must have been off his rocker," Anderson muttered more to Lestrade than anyone as he looked around the flat.

Anderson had taken a liking to Kylie nearly immediately. They had started off on the wrong foot with his relationship with Donovan, but in the end, they ended up being agreeable. Plus the fact that she had a knack for messing with Sherlock's mind entertained him greatly.

"You have no idea how crazy this bastard is," Lestrade muttered, his mind flashing back to the earlier conversation they had had upstairs.

"That sounded morbid," Anderson pried slightly.

"Cupid and Psyche," Sherlock blurted out, "It's an excerpt from a poem written by Mary Tighe in 1805 based on the Roman mythological story of Cupid and Psyche."

"Wow," Donovan stated, "Between you and this bastard, Kylie really must be into dating freaky psychopaths."

Sherlock stopped to glare at he and was about to comment when Lestrade spoke up first.

"Donovan," he said slowly, "Get out."

Donovan looked at him in shock.

"What?"

"I will not have you make comments about other team members. Kylie has a threat on her life, and you can't hold your tongue for five minutes? Get the case upstairs to John and then go back to the Yard. You just earned yourself desk duty for a week."

Donovan gaped at him for a moment, trying to decide whether or not he was joking. Lestrade's stern glare said it all, causing her scoff and huff before grabbing the case and walking out.

Lestrade turned back to find both Sherlock and Anderson looking at him strangely.

"Kylie's a friend, I just want to catch this bastard," he said turning his attention back to the body.

Silence and more staring.

"So this tale of Cupid and Psyche?" Lestrade said to break the silence.

Sherlock shook his head slightly before speaking.

"It's the mythological tale of Cupid, who was sent by his mother Venus to shoot her with his golden arrow so that Venus could place a vile creature for her to fall in love with. Venus was jealous of the woman's beauty and wanted her to be taken so men would stop flocking to her. Cupid went to her room, turning himself invisible a readied an arrow. Just before he shot her, Psyche woke up and looked right into his eyes. He accidentally pricked himself with the arrow and immediately fell in love with her."

"So its another fairy tale?" Anderson asked.

"It's a mythological tale Anderson," Sherlock snapped as Anderson rolled his eyes, "Do keep up."

Anderson rolled his eyes once more as Sherlock turned to Lestrade, "Mythological tales and fairy tales have similar roots. Its connected somehow with the note in the woman's hand. He's trying to get to her."

"You think the first murder is connected to this one?" Lestrade asked.

"Of course. She had a fascination with fairy tales as a child. He must have known that," Sherlock told him.

"Is there more to the story?" Anderson asked regarding the fairy tale.

"Yes, but it shouldn't pertain to the case much more," Sherlock said as he began to look around the flat for more evidence.

Anderson watched Sherlock wander around the flat for a moment, before he turned to Lestrade, "Isn't this the part where he storms off to find the victim and interrogate them about how they are an idiot until they cry?"

"Yeah well, this time the victim's Kylie," Lestrade said putting his hands in his pockets and watching the consulting detective work. "He told me not to bother her also,"

Anderson looked at him surprised.

"She needs to sleep, he told me," Lestrade said with a slight smile on his face.

"I wasn't aware he had feelings," Anderson said.

Sure Anderson loathed Sherlock. The man was a self-absorbed dick. He was completely deranged, but he considered Kylie a friend. Seeing Sherlock so protective of her lowered his distain for the man slightly…..very slightly.

"Is that pool still going on?"

**Review?**


	27. Chapter 27

**You guys are seriously amazing! Thanks so much for all of your amazing reviews! **

**I also just want to apologize for the massive amount of errors… I am copying and pasting parts of the last story (which pages doesn't spell check… and I am learning how to live with out word … or trying to) while I am running off of no sleep and multitasking. That, and I loath proof reading. Write a thesis for grad school and you'll know what i mean. ANyhow, I just wanted to apologize, I promise I am competent, but I apologize if it was hard to read at all. **

**Anyhow, enjoy!**

It was nearly three in the morning by the time Sherlock climbed the stairs back up to his own flat, opening the door only to be greeted by John pointing a gun at him from his chair, ready to pull the trigger if he didn't recognize the person.

John sighed and relaxed as he realized it was just Sherlock entering the flat.

"How'd it go?" John asked quietly, as to not disturb Kylie who was still asleep on the couch.

"Didn't find much. He left a note similar to that at the 'riddle' crime scene," he told him as he glanced at Kylie.

"You think Thomas committed the first murder?"

"I'm sure of it," Sherlock said handing John a copy of the note, watching Kylie sleep on the couch intently.

"How's she been?" Sherlock asked his friend.

"Hmm?" John said looking up from the note, "Oh she's been asleep since you've been gone. Started twitching in her sleep about an hour ago, but I haven't had the heart to wake her yet."

Sherlock looked over at the sleeping woman on his couch. she looked peaceful. Her auburn hair was down and around her face. Her makeup had been rubbed off by her earlier crying. It was amazing how women compulsively added makeup to accent certain features, and yet this woman seemed almost more beautiful without the little makeup that she typically wore.

"This guy is a nut job," John muttered as he set down the note, shaking his head in distain, "The murders, how this is essentially a game to him with the riddles and the messages… not to mention the sick things he did to Kylie."

Sherlock was silent. He was fighting hard to keep the anger and protectiveness inside himself to a minimum. There was nothing he could do to undo what he had done to her. He could only catch this bastard, and to do that, he had to remain rational and objective.

"We need to get her off that couch if we want her to be able to walk tomorrow," John told him quietly as he stood and walked over to where his flatmate was standing, "She can have my room."

"No, I hardly sleep anyway, she'll stay in my room," he told him.

"You sure?"

"Positive," Sherlock told him, "Get some sleep. I'll take watch."

John nodded and looked at Kylie for a moment.

"She's strong," he commented quietly, "She barely showed any sign that she went through that hell when she just moved here, and it was fresh."

"It still is."

John looked at him. It was odd hearing emotional human insight from his best friend, but it was starting to become a habit when it came to this woman.

John clapped him on the shoulder, "Let me know if you need anything," he told him as he walked up to his bedroom.

"Night."

Sherlock stared at Kylie for a moment longer until he heard John's bedroom door shut.

He bent down and gently removed the comforter from her body, walking into his bedroom, laying it out before walking back into the living room to retrieve her, picking her up bridal style. He walked as slowly as he could, trying his best not to wake her, gently setting her down on the bed before covering her up once more.

She made a slight noise before squirming and relaxing into his pillow, knocking some of her hair into her face as she did so.

Sherlock carefully sat on the bed next to her, softly brushing the hair out of her face. The moonlight coming from the window glistened off her hair making it seem almost luminescent.

She didn't deserve what she was going through. He had had some theories about what that man had done to her, but he wouldn't have ever guessed that he had done those horrible things to her. He had no idea how Thomas could live with himself after all that he did to her.

_Those terrible, unspeakable things._

Sherlock bent down and kissed her forehead.

"Goodnight Kyleigha," he whispered before getting up to leave.

Sherlock hand was on the doorknob before he heard a soft voice behind him.

"Sherlock?"

He turned around as Kylie began to sit up and run a hand through her dark auburn waves as she looked at him through a sleepy gaze.

"What time is it?" she asked sleepily.

"About three A.M." he said as he walked back over the bed.

"I slept for a while," Kylie joked lightly rubbing her eyes, "Did you find anything in my flat?"

"Yes," he told her slowly, not wanting to upset her, "We'll talk about it in the morning."

"It is morning."

"I know, but you need to sleep longer," he told her as he began to walk towards the door again.

"Sherlock," Kylie said reaching for his hand, grabbing it to stop him from leaving. He turned and looked at her.

"Tell me."

His eyes flicked down to her small hand grabbing onto his larger one. He couldn't help but feel a strange fluttering feeling as her thumb caressed his hand. He looked up into her eyes, not being able to help his surge of protectiveness erupting from within as her blue eyes shone with pain and venerability; searching for answers.

He sighed and sat down on the bed next to her, still holding her hand in his, staring at it.

"He left a poem in the dead woman's hand. One referring to the Roman myth of Cupid and Psyche," he told her gently looking back up into her eyes.

She stared at him for a moment before looking down and shutting her eyes. That was obviously the last thing that she had wanted to hear.

"Great," she said sarcastically.

"That mean anything to you?" Sherlock asked as he bent down, trying to look into her eyes.

"Yeah," she whispered quietly, looking at their still intertwined hands, fighting tears once more, "For our first year anniversary, he gave me a framed copy of that a poem written about that story by Mary Tighe. It was always one of my favorites. I loved myths just as much as I loved fairy tales."

She sighed and shook her head as she continued, "He said that the myth was our very own fairy tale because when he saw me for the first time, he felt cupid's arrow prick him."

Sherlock felt a tear drop onto his hand, causing him to squeeze it in support, hearing John's voice in the back of his head to do exactly that.

She was silent for a moment before she started laughing suddenly. He looked at her, confused as she looked up and out the window for a moment.

"God, that has got to be the lamest line ever. How did I fall for that?"

She shook her head for a moment.

"When you are in love, I guess things don't become rational anymore," she told him as she wiped her eyes with her free hand, "I think you have it right. Its dangerous and irrational, and makes people act like completely ignorant idiots."

"You aren't an idiot," Sherlock told her.

She smiled at him through her tears, "That's sweet, but I stayed with a crazy psychopath after seeing all the signs of abuse…" she trailed off, "I saw it. I should have left sooner. I just… I guess I just didn't want to see that part of him."

They fell into silence for a moment.

"Humans as a whole," Sherlock said slowly as he avoided her eye, instead watching his thumb trail over the knuckles, taking in the softness of her skin, "instinctively seek the comfort of human affection, physical closeness, and relationship with another human being. Its evolutionary and psychological and non-empirical; but its unavoidable if you are human. You cannot avoid it, no matter how hard you try."

He looked up at her to find her eyes searching his; locking him in a gaze.

"Attraction and the want to be close to someone is a chemical reaction and exchange of pheromones that you are evolutionarily engrained to respond to and seek. Everyone is susceptible."

Her eyes searched his.

"You don't believe you are susceptible to that," she told him.

He broke her gaze and looked down at her hand before looking back up at her, noticing a stray tear rolling down her cheek. He raised his free hand, gently wiping away the tear.

"I believe I may be starting to be," he told her, not sure of how the words passed the rational part of his brain and still came out of his mouth.

She stared at him for a moment as his fingers brushed her cheek once more, feeling the softness of her skin once more. He began to lower his hand before Kylie gently grabbed it, bringing it back to her cheek once more.

He looked at her in slight shock of her action before electricity and a fluttering feeling filled his veins. He felt the air leave his lungs as he noticed how truly close they were. His eyes naturally flicked to her lips as he felt himself inching towards her as his thumb brushed her cheek.

"You aren't the only one," she breathed to him before she closed the distance between them.

Her lips met his softly as electricity took over Sherlock's body causing his heart to stop and then start once more. Kylie's lips began to move gently against his and he met her willingly, as her hand trailed up his chest to the nape of his neck. Her kiss was so gentle and loving, causing Sherlock's chest to fill with warmth as fireworks erupted in his own brain.

The kiss was strong, yet gentle. Passionate, yet tender.

It was overwhelming; a completely overwhelming sense of emotion. One that Sherlock had never experienced before. It was strange, yet electrifying… and he liked it.

The kiss slowed to a stop and Kylie pulled away gently, looking at him as his eyes fluttered open, looking at her once more.

"Wow," she smiled at him, blushing slightly.

He couldn't help but chuckle.

She looked back up at him shyly. His smile faded as he brushed some hair out of her face once more before he cupped her face and hesitantly kissed her once more; his heart now threatening to explode in his chest as her lips lingered on his.

He pulled away and looked at her once more. She stared at him for a moment as they were locked in each other's gaze.

"You haven't done this sort of thing before, have you?" she asked quietly.

"What sort of thing?"

A small smile broke out over her face once more, "Kiss me."

He looked at her in confusion, "What?"

"Kiss me, please."

He stared at her, puzzled by her request.

"I just did."

"I liked it," she smiled at him, "So did you. Kiss me, again."

A small smile tugged on the corner of his mouth. She was right. He did like it… a lot…

He leaned forward, hesitating awkwardly as he waited for her to close the distance.

"Kiss me, Sherlock Holmes," she whispered to him.

He closed the distance immediately, kissing her with a hunger he had never experienced before. She moaned into his mouth as she wrapped her arms around her neck, allowing him to pull her closer to him.

That was all he wanted, her closer.

Her hands ran through his hair, causing a noise to erupt from the back of his throat, surprising him enough to pull away, looking at her in slight shock.

She smiled at him, bushing his curly mop to the side, out of his eyes.

"You've never done anything like this before, have you?" she asked gently, gazing into his eyes. "Sure, you've kissed women before, been romantic with them, but only for covers. You've never been in a close relationship before, have you?"

"I have John," he told her.

Kylie smirked slightly as she looked at the wall for a moment, "I hope not."

He looked at her in confusion.

She looked back at him, smirking even more, "I mean you've never been romantically involved with anyone. Someone you are attracted to."

He stared at her, running a hand through her hair, "I don't believe I've ever been attracted to anyone before now."

She smiled and leaned down to kiss him once more.

"And I need to relearn how to trust," she told him as she pulled away, "We'll figure it out together."

Sherlock brushed her hair behind her ear tenderly as he stared into her eyes. His lips met hers softly once more before he pulled away.

"You need to sleep," he whispered to her as he ran a hand through her hair.

"So do you."

"Sleep, I need to work to find Thomas before he kills again," he told her as he untangled himself from her, getting up and walking out of the bedroom, not noticing the fear that had surged back through her with his name.

He had nearly reached the couch when he heard her voice call his name.

He turned and walked back into his bedroom, looking at her curiously, wondering what could have happened in the few seconds he had left.

She stared at him, the fearfulness back in her eyes.

"Can… can you stay with me?" she asked meekly.

He looked at the bed, his mind mulling over what she meant in his mind.

"Kylie… you were raped only a few months ago…" he said warningly.

"What? No," she said shaking her head, "I didn't mean sex. I just don't… I just don't really want to be alone right now. Sleep was hard enough before Thomas found me, broke into my flat, and murdered a woman in it."

He just looked at her. He needed to think, but the fear all over her face made his heart break. Reality had crashed all around her once more.

"I just want to sleep," she told him, "I just want this all to go away for a little while. To feel safe for a moment or two." She stopped for a moment, looking down at the bed, "You make me feel safe."

Sherlock just stared at her. This was so opposite of the woman he knew. She was brave, stubborn, courageous…not this meek woman who was frightened beyond belief.

But with what that bastard did to her… he almost couldn't blame her.

"Okay," he nodded.

"Thank you," she told him as she scooted over.

He removed his blazer and kicked off his shoes before climbing into bed next to her, only to stiffen as she scooted closer to him, cuddling herself into his side and laying her head on his chest, causing him to stiffen in surprise.

She sat back up, feeling him stiffen, "Oh! Sorry!"

"Its… fine," he said as he tried to figure out if he like this feeling or not.

"You obviously aren't comfortable with that," she said as she began to scoot away, only to have Sherlock put his arm under her head and around her, pulling her back into his side.

"Stay, you're fine," he told her as he began to enjoy the odd feeling of closeness.

She tensed slightly, "I don't want to make you uncomfortable. I told you, this will be slow… well, whatever this is…"

"A relationship?" he asked.

She looked up at him, "I know I would like it to be, but I told you, we'll go slow and figure this all out together."

He looked at her and nodded.

She gave him a smile, "I just want you to be comfortable. I don't want you to be forced into anything."

He turned and pressed his lips to her forehead.

"Its fine," he told her quietly, brushing her hair back, "I'm just not… used to it. Its all pretty new."

She looked at him for a moment before she laid her head back down on his chest, her fingers began drawing shapes on it as she listened to his heartbeat.

"Just let me know if I am pushing you…"

"You aren't," he told her as he felt his eyes begin to get heavy, "Now get some sleep."

She laughed slightly "Sorry, nervous," she explained before she went quiet rubbing his chest, forcing his body to relax with surprising quickness as she tried to sleep.

After a while, Kylie's breathing began to slow as she drifted off to sleep. Sherlock looked down at the sleeping woman in his arms. It was odd. This feeling, this warmth, this giddiness, this protectiveness that he could not shake with her; it scared him. It scared him to death. But with one glance down at the auburn haired beauty that lay next to him, that fear dissipated immediately. She made him feel… calm.

Sherlock closed his eyes, and for the first time in his life, his mind became satisfied and stopped racing.

Sherlock Holmes slept the best he ever had that night.

**Thoughts, feelings, comments?**

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	28. Chapter 28

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The next morning, John walked out into the living room, stretching as he went.

"Morning Sherlock," he said, not even looking into the living room as he walked into the kitchen to make his morning tea and toast, "you figure out anything else?"

Silence.

John huffed and rolled his eyes.

_Damn git couldn't even answer him back…_

John huffed once more before throwing his butter knife down on the counter and storming into the living room.

"Sherlock are you even…?" he stopped short upon finding the couch and living room completely empty.

He was always in the living room. If he wasn't out on a case or in the shower, he was in the living room; either on the couch, at the desk, shouting at the television from an armchair… he was always there.

He looked around the flat. Sherlock wouldn't have just left, not with Kylie's situation or without telling John. Sure, he left all the time without telling him, but with all that was happening, he would have at least woken John and told him to keep watch. Lord knows he had dragged him out of bed for less.

He froze as the gun laying on the coffee table caught his eye.

Sherlock was missing.

Kylie wasn't here.

Her psychotic ex was on the loose

The same man who worked for Moriarty…

Shit, this wasn't good.

He grabbed the gun off the coffee table, heading towards Sherlock's closed bedroom door, praying that he wasn't going to find his best friend and Kylie dead on the floor.

As he reached the door and was about to run in when the door suddenly flung open, connecting with John's nose and forehead.

"AGH!" John yelped in pain as he stumbled backwards, grabbing his nose.

"John?"

John looked up to see Sherlock stepping out of the bedroom, shutting the door quietly behind him as he looked at him curiously.

"Bloody hell, Sherlock," John cursed as he clutched his nose in pain, removing his hand for a slight moment to find that it was gushing blood before covering it up once more.

"Why did you run into my door?" he asked him as he dragged him away from the closed bedroom door, pulling him toward the kitchen.

He stared at him incredulously, "I didn't run into it, you bloody slammed it into my face," he told him as he pressed a towel to his nose.

Sherlock raised an eyebrow at him, "Do you always wander around with a gun in your bathrobe?"

John glared at Sherlock as best he could with a towel held to his face.

"No! I didn't see you or Kylie in the living room and I thought maybe that psychopath had…" John trailed off, looking at Sherlock like he had just seen him for the first time.

Sherlock furrowed his eyebrow at him.

"What?"

"You…" John said removing the towel and smiling at him, "You were in your room…"

Sherlock looked at him oddly, "yes… that was a bit obvious, John. I just walked out of it."

"Yes," he said as his smile widened, "Kylie is in there."

Sherlock looked at him for a moment. before turning awkwardly and looking for something to busy himself with in order to cooly avoid eye contact.

"I went to check on her," he told him as he fiddled with the eyeballs in the microwave.

"No," John told him grinning wildly, knowing he was on to something by the way that he was acting, "No, your shirt is crumpled like you slept in it, and I have never seen your hair look like that."

"I've been up all night working on the case. I haven't had a chance to change yet," he quickly lied as he messed with the eyeballs.

"Ive seen you sit on the couch for seven hours straight, and your shirt is never that rumpled. Not to mention your hair looks as if Kylie ran her hands through it a good amount of times," John said in complete disbelief, "Something most definitely happened last night."

_Damn. He really did pick up on things quickly._

"By something 'happening', you mean a psychotic ex-boyfriend breaking into Kylie's flat and terrorizing her? Then, yes. Something happened," Sherlock shot back.

"Not what I am talking about, and you know it," John continued, looking at his friend, attempting to call his bluff, "Something happened romantically between you and Kylie last night."

"I dont date, John. I'm married to my work."

"Kylie is your work. She's practically you, and you are egotistical enough to date a female version of yourself, which Kyle, in some ways, is. She also brings out a better side of you, which is good for the rest of the world."

"What part of 'I don't date' are you not understanding?"

"The part where this is Kylie we are talking about."

"So..?"

"Kylie's different. She always has been."

"Why? because she's actually intelligent?"

"Oh please Sherlock! You've fancied Kylie since she showed you up at the crime scene on day one! Hell, you even acted strange you met her and thought she was a model!"

"I did not act strange!"

"Ha!" John said pointing a finger at him victoriously, "You aren't denying you fancy her then?"

Sherlock opened his mouth to argue before someone else cut him off.

"Leave him alone, John," Kylie said as she walked into the kitchen, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes, "He really did just come in to check on me."

She walked past the men, eyeing John and smirking as she began making coffee in the french press.

"What happened to you, Clint Eastwood from Grand Torino?" she joked as she looked back at the bloodied John, still in his bathrobe holding a gun, "Get hit trying to chase them damn kids off your lawn again?"

John just looked between Kylie and Sherlock for a moment, "No, don't try to insult and distract me. Something is definitely different. What happened?"

Kylie paused. They hadn't talked about anything; just kissed, slept, woken up, and kissed a little more before they had heard John up and about. She wanted to give him time to adjust and really see if this was something he wanted to begin. She was well aware that he didn't date, and she really hoped he would change that… but then again… she didn't even know if she was ready to open herself up to that so soon after what had happened to her.

She wasn't ashamed of what had happened. It was just going to get more complicated and embarrassing if more people knew about it… let alone John or Lestrade; the two biggest gossips the world had ever seen.

"Nothing," Kylie finally said, turning and leaning against the counter, "I told you. You gave me the drugs, I slept, I woke up in Sherlock's bed, he barely had time to ask me how I was, before he walked out to speak with you."

John looked at her, trying to find a tell.

Sherlock couldn't help but smirk. She wasn't letting on at all. She was a good liar, he'd have to remember that.

"I don't buy it," John said as he walked out of the kitchen to the bathroom to clean up his bloodied face.

Kylie watched him go with an amused expression on her face before looking at Sherlock, "What's up with Gramps?"

Sherlock smiled in amusement as they heard a thump from the bathroom, "I'm not that much older than the two of you!"

Sherlock turned to Kylie, attempting to suppress a grin as he raised an eyebrow, "Well, at least we dont have to go and have his hearing checked."

Kylie busted out laughing as Sherlock laughed along with her.

"Sod it," John said as he walked out of the bathroom and climbed the stairs to his bedroom, "I'm going to get dressed. Hopefully you two have magically morphed back into adults when I get back."

"Doubtful," Sherlock muttered as Kylie poured coffee, laughing to herself as John disappeared up the stairs.

"You two enjoying yourselves?" a new voice drawled from the front door. They both turned to see Mycroft staring at the two of them disapprovingly.

"Mycroft," Sherlock said coldly.

"Sherlock," he drawled right back.

Silence.

"Mycroft" Kylie said in a plain voice, which caused both of the men to look at her in surprise.

Silence.

"Yes, Miss Gibbs?" Mycroft inquired.

"Oh! Sorry, I thought we were playing a game where we just said each other's name and stared instead of having an actual conversation," she told him sarcastically as she took a sip of her coffee.

Sherlock just stare in confusion as Mycroft smiled at her bitterly.

"You do know that sarcasm is not well liked, nor polite in today's society," Mycroft told her as he leaned on his umbrella.

"Pity," she told him sarcastically once more, "I mean, I don't know what else I have other than sarcasm, wit, and charm to get through life?"

Sherlock smirked in amusement as Mycroft stared at her, a forced smile still on his face.

"So did you just stop by for a chat?" Kylie asked.

"Of course he didn't," Sherlock added, "Politican always with an agenda."

Mycroft turned his gaze to his little brother.

"I heard about Miss Gibbs misfortunes and came to offer my support."

Sherlock glared at his brother coldly as Kylie softened.

"Thank you Mycroft, I appreciate that," she told him sincerely.

He smiled at her, "I hope the two of you had a wonderful night together? My little brother behave himself?"

Kylie looked at Mycroft in slight alarm, before he eyes flicked to Sherlock, looking for some sort of explanation.

"Yeah… I'm not going into this with you," Kylie told him as she set her coffee down, "Plus its none of your business. So, I'm going to leave and get a shower before this whole conversation even begins."

The men watched as Kylie walked towards the bathroom, running a hand through her hair and shutting the door behind her.

"She's good for you," Mycroft told his brother as he turned back to him.

"I don't need your opinion, Mycroft," Sherlock bit back.

"Don't fight me like you always fought Mummy," Mycroft scolded his brother.

"Mother didn't have the trait of being a pompous arse who stuck his nose in my business," Sherlock retorted.

"Our _real_ mother Sherlock," Mycroft told him.

Sherlock stared at his brother.

The brothers stared at each other in silence for a moment before Mycroft pulled some folded papers from his coat pocket, handing them to his younger brother.

"Thomas Moore. Age 33. Born and raised in Baltimore, Maryland. He was recruited by the CIA right out of University. He served as an Army Ranger for two years before becoming a full-time agent. He specialized in weaponry and foreign affairs."

Sherlock took the papers, looking them over.

"He was deeper in the CIA than Miss Gibbs believed. He was one of their top agents, completing countless missions and assassinations for the U.S government," Mycroft continued.

Sherlock scanned the papers, feeling his brother's sharp stare.

"Sherlock, he's dangerous. Perhaps more dangerous than you know."

HIs eyes flicked up to his brother before looking back down at the papers once more.

"How does he know Moriarty?"

Mycroft sighed, "My sources say that Moore was on a mission to infiltrate Moriarty's inner circle as a weapons dealer. He quickly became Moriarty's right hand man."

Sherlock nodded as he folded the papers, quickly walking over to the desk and hiding them in a drawer.

"I have my people keeping an eye on Miss Gibbs as well as Baker Street for the time being."

"Moore is on the watch list I assume?"

"Naturally."

Kylie walked back into the room, her hair wet and dressed in yoga pants and her father's NAVY sweatshirt, after her brief shower. She stopped and frowned, looking between the two brothers staring contest.

"So," she said disturbing the silence as she grabbed her coffee, walking into the living room, "What brings you in Mycroft?"

"I told you Miss Gibbs," he told her with a smile, "I came to offer my support."

"I have a feeling thats not the whole truth," she told him as she sat on the couch, curling her feet under her.

"I was worried," he told her with a smile.

Kylie gave him a small smile, pushing her wet hair out of her face, "Yeah, well, we all have a crazy ex, mine is just a little crazier than most," she joked, trying to push back her true feelings on the subject.

Sherlock gave his brother a glare for upsetting her, and opened his mouth to say something before he was cut off by a phone ringing.

"_Father of mine. Tell me where have you been…?"_ the ringtone played, causing them all to stare at the phone.

Mycroft and Sherlock both looked at the phone in silence before Kylie got up, taking her coffee with her.

"Calm down guys, its just my Dad," Kylie said as she unlocked the screen and picked up the phone.

"Hey Dad," she said as she took a sip of coffee. Her Dad would know that something happened. She just had to lie her ass off and pretend everything was normal.

"Hello beautiful," a smooth voice cooed on the other end of the line; a voice that was defiantly not her father's….

"You miss me Kales?"

John walked into the living room just in time to see a very paled and wide-eyed Kylie drop her mug in shock as she whispered a single name.

"Thomas?"

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	29. Chapter 29

**THanks so much you guys! You guys are simply amazing. I am so glad that you guys are enjoying this story!**

**Its short! Sorry!**

"Thomas?"

Kylie's heart froze and sank immediately as she barely registered her coffee cup slipping out of her grasp and shattering on the floor.

He had found her.

He had her father.

How? Her father had arrived in America yesterday… he had texted her…

texted….

…he never texted…

He had her Dad… the bastard had her Dad..

"You miss me sweetheart?" Thomas cooed on the other end of the line. She could practically hear him smirking.

"Not a chance in hell you son of a bitch," Kylie said as her voice began trembling, her fists clenching as well, "What have you done with my Dad?"

Thomas chuckled, "Oh Kales. Its so sweet how much you care for Daddy dearest…"

"Where the hell is my father, Thomas?"

"Daddy's fine for now gorgeous," he told her, "I just wanted to hear your voice. See how you've been."

"So you kidnapped my father to use his cell phone to call me?"

"You always did think the worst of me Kales," he sighed, "I just wanted to talk to you."

"I swear to God, Thomas," she told him through gritted teeth, "if you harm a hair on his head.."

"You'll what?" Thomas asked laughing at her, "Track me down like you do the killers of your precious murder victims?" He paused, "Then again, that means you'll come to me then wont you?"

"I will find you and put a bullet in your head, you sick son of a bitch."

"Oooh, dirty talk. You do know how to turn me on. You know what else turned me on? Seeing the life drain out of your eyes as I…"

"SHUT UP!" Kylie yelled struggling to keep herself together as the images kept flashing back in her mind.

Thomas laughed even more, "You always were a firecracker. That's why I was so attracted to you. Nothing like the rush of trying to contain a tiger."

"What the hell do you want from me?"

"Oh, I want many MANY things Kales."

"Does that include killing innocent people and posing them as fairy tale characters?"

"I thought you had forgotten about me. You left without saying goodbye."

"You should have thought about that before you went off your rocker."

"Careful, you are turning me on Kales. Its been six months since I've had that body of yours… and dear LORD I have missed it."

Her body stiffened in rage as she fought the urge to vomit.

"I swear to God, Thomas…"

"Ooh, getting mad now are you? About time. I always preferred it when you fought back. Just like the night I last saw you…"

"Don't you fucking come near me, Thomas."

"I will have you Kales," Thomas told her in a quiet and dangerous voice, "Tell you brand new boyfriend, that Jim Moriarty sends his regards. By the way, that thing you did this morning, was completely hot, granted, it would be better if you had been naked and going at him, but I'll take what I can get before I have you again."

The line went dead as Kylie slowly lowered the phone from her ear in shock of what she had just heard.

He was watching her. He had seen her this morning with Sherlock. It had been innocent kissing, but the fact that Thomas had seen them made her want to wash her entire body in hand sanitizer.

He was watching her.

He had her father.

"Kylie?"

She turned around to face them, tears running down her face as she looked at them, shaking violently.

"I- I…"

She looked down at her phone once more before she began dialing a number with a shaking hand.

"Kylie?" Sherlock asked once more as he got up and slowly approached her.

She ran a hand through her hair as she lifted the phone to her ear, praying that someone would answer.

"Kylie," he said more firmly, trying to get her to look at him.

"Tony!" she said into the phone, ignoring Sherlock and nearly going into a panic attack, "Tony, may Dad. I think… I think he's in trouble…."

She trailed off for a moment as she shut her eyes in what looked like relief.

"He's with you? No, no I'm fine… No! please don't tell him I called. Just promise me you'll keep an eye on him…. Nothing is going on Tony, I promise," she argued as her voice shook, emotions on the edge of spilling over.

"I'm fine. Just look after my Dad, okay? I- I got to go," Kylie said as she tired to hang up the phone with a shaking hand as she tried to hold in her stress and sobs.

She wiped her eyes as she attempted to calm herself.

"_Father of mine…"_

Her father. Tony must have told her Dad.

She pressed ignore and turned off her phone.

"Kylie," John asked slowly, "You okay?"

She shut her eyes and turned around to face the group, "Moriarty sends his regards," she told them quietly as she stared at her phone in shock.

Silence.

"Are you okay though?" John asked once more.

"Yeah, I'm dandy, John," Kylie said as her emotions and anger at the situation spilled over the edge, her voice shaking, "Just dandy. I have a psychotic ex boyfriend who is killing people to get my attention, which is why he left a dead girl in my flat. He wants to hunt me down and rape me again all the while he is working with a criminal mastermind. Oh, yeah, and he threatened my father. So yeah, John, all in all. I just fucking great."

The group was silent.

She sat down in one of the chairs, shutting her eyes and dropping her head in her hands, trying to compose herself.

What in the hell was she going to do?

She jumped and flinched as she felt someone touch her. She looked up with wide eyes, seeing Sherlock kneeling in front of her at eye level, his hands in the air, looking at her warily.

She let out a breath as she tried to calm herself once more. He hesitantly reached out and gently grabbed her hand.

"We'll get him Ky," he told her, attempting to reassure her.

She smiled at him as she turned her hand and intertwined her fingers with his as she looked into his eyes, "I hope so."

They held their gaze for a moment before Sherlock's phone beeped at them. he gave her one last look before he stood up and pulled his phone out of his jacket, glancing at the message from an unknown number.

_Come out and play… _

_Bart's morgue._

_Midnight._

_Bring your girlfriend. _

_-JM_

**LIke I said, short… sorry guys. **

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	30. Chapter 30

**Thanks so much to all of my amazing reviewers! Seriously I cant tell you how glad I am that you guys are enjoying this, nor thank you enough for taking a moment out of your day to write a few words. Seriously, it means the world to me!**

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**Anyhow, Enjoy!**

"You aren't going with me!"

"The hell I'm not! You shouldn't even be going in the first place! This is my problem, Sherlock! Not yours!"

"So you are going to come and visit Thomas's boss? The same man who killed people for you, made you believe that he had your father…"

"He called from his phone!"

"Everyday CIA trick," Mycroft droned from an armchair, obviously bored with Sherlock and Kylie's argument that had began near after the text message from Moriarty had been received, "Hack the phone server to gain access to contacts and are able to fake a call from a different line…"

"Shut up Mycroft!" the both yelled at him at the same time before turning back to the arguing once more.

"I can take care of myself, Sherlock! I don't need you to protect me!" Kylie yelled at him.

"Yeah, you've been doing a real fine job of that yourself."

SLAP

Kylie smacked him across the face as she glared daggers at him.

"Don't you dare say that getting raped was my fault."

He shifted his jaw as he rubbed his face from the hit, "I don't believe I said that at all."

"Well then what did you mean to say by that then?" she asked furiously.

"Moriarty is an extremely dangerous man, and you are wanting to walk right into his hands."

"And you aren't doing the same thing?"

"I know how to play his game."

"And I don't?"

"You don't know him. You don't know what to expect. Its like chess, you have to anticipate with a man like Moriarty."

"Last time I checked, I know how to handle myself. God knows I'm a better shot than you."

Sherlock scoffed, "I do believe I was the one who actually hit Donald Weatherly."

"Really?" Kylie gaped, "Because I hit him in the shoulder and the leg before I took the kill shot, while you shot him in the shoulder and then completely missed!"

"You are the one who missed!"

"We fired at the same time! And I have actual proper training in gun safety and know not to scratch my head with a weapon, like you do all the time!"

"This has nothing to even do with this argument…"

"ENOUGH!" John yelled, silencing the bickering pair as they looked at him in shock.

"Will the two of you stop for just a Goddamn moment?" he said in frustration, "Kylie, this whole damn thing reeks of a trap. Its one of Moriarty's games and when Thomas is working for him and wants you, its completely illogical to walk into it."

Kylie opened her mouth to argue, but John just held up a hand, "I'm NOT done yet!" he told her before he rounded on Sherlock, "You are just being a giant cock. Seriously, let it go. You two go from staring at each other and mounting sexual tension one moment to bickering the next. I don't know whether or not to just lock you in a room with each other until you jump each others bones, or get you medicated for bipolar disorder. Its like you are a fucking married couple."

John sighed as he finished his rant, feeling a bit better getting that off his chest, only to see Kylie and Sherlock just staring at him blankly.

Silence.

"Yeah… I'm still going," Kylie said stubbornly as she turned on her heel and walked into Sherlock's bedroom.

John gaped at her retreating form as Sherlock let out a growl of anger and stormed in after her, slamming the door shut behind him.

John turned to Mycroft as he looked up from texting on his phone.

"Seriously? Do you believe those two?"

Mycroft gave John a slight smile before commenting, "They really do bring out the best and worst in each other, don't they?"

**^&% *&#(**

Sherlock walked into his bedroom, slamming the door shut behind him, as Kylie whirled around to face him.

"Look," she told him pointedly, her anger with him fading, "I know you are trying to protect me, but truthfully, I need to be the one protecting you right now…" she trailed off as she remembered Thomas's last words to her on the phone, "He's been watching us Sherlock. He knows what happened last night."

Sherlock felt his blood run cold. The bastard had been watching them?

His eyes immediately went to the window before he walked over, drawing both the blinds and the curtains.

"He's going to come after you, Sherlock," she told him quietly, the fear and vulnerability was back, replacing the strong, stubborn woman he had been arguing with before, "The last thing I want to do, is drag you into my vortex of a messed up life. I can't let him get to you, and if that means walking into this, I'll do it. We just have to be prepared."

She paused looking at the floor, before she looked up at him, "I meant everything I said and did last night. I honestly care about you… which, is a feat in itself after Thomas…" she digressed before she paused again, gathering her thoughts. "I guess what I am trying to say is, this whole thing is because of me and I don't want you to get hurt because of it."

Sherlock sighed as he walked back over to her. She had practically curled up within herself. She seemed so much smaller when she was frightened, looking up at him with guilt and fear.

"You didn't bring this on yourself, you know?" he told her quietly as he fought the urge to touch her.

"I know," she told him as she rubbed her arm, trying to comfort herself, "But he wouldn't be going after you if it weren't for me."

He bent down a little, trying to look directly in her eyes as she looked at the floor again, grasping her by the shoulders.

"Moriarty has been after me for a while now. Even if Thomas wasn't even in the picture, I'd still be in the exact same position."

She just looked at him, scared and unsure of what to do. In the six months he had known her, she was always so strong, so confident. Seeing her like this was difficult for him for some reason. It tore his heart to shreds and made the magnetism between the two of them grow even stronger. All he wanted to do was touch her…

He gave in, pulling her close to him as he wrapped his arms around her protectively. She embraced him once more, letting out a sob of emotion as she did.

He smoothed her hair and rubbed her back as he kissed her temple, "I can't let you get hurt. I can't let him have you," he whispered to her.

He felt her pull him a little tighter, trying to get as close to him as possible.

They stood there for a moment, giving and taking comfort from each other before she pulled back a little.

She brought a hand up to his cheek, looking at him, "I won't get hurt if you won't."

"You can't guarantee that," Sherlock told her.

She smiled at him sadly as her thumb ran over his cheek, "You can't guarantee anything in life. But I know Thomas, and you know Moriarty. If we are in this together, we have a better chance of bringing them both down."

He looked at her and sighed before he gently grabbed her hand, removing hit from his cheek and lowering it to his chest as he looked at her.

"I hate the fact that you make logical sense… Its annoying."

She laughed slightly, "Yeah, I'm annoying like that."

He kept looking at her.

"Thank you," she whispered to him before she leaned up and pressed her lips to his.

Electricity surged through him as her lips brushed against his. He let out an involuntary moan as he deepened the kiss, pulling Kylie flush against him once more. She smirked against his lips as her hands made their way up around his neck, playing the curls at the nape of his neck.

She felt his hand tangle in her hair as he held her face to his, while very gently pressing her up against the wall as he continued to kiss her as she had never been kissed before. He was making her head spin like no one else ever had. For once in her life, she felt… cherished…

"Mph hm."

Someone cleared their throat to the left of the couple. Both of them froze before pulling apart to see John and a suddenly present Lestrade gaping at them, while Mycroft stood smirking at them.

Both of them stayed where they were, rooted in shock.

Panic surged through Kylie. The last thing she wanted right now was for everyone to find out about her and Sherlock when it had just happened and they didn't even know what was happening yet.

_They were never going to hear the end of this…_

Sherlock dropped his arms as a blush began creeping up his neck.

No one said anything. There was just a lot of staring, gaping, and smirking.

Kylie stood up from where she was leaning up against the wall, feeling heat rise to her face. She had no idea what to say or do, so she settled on clearing her own throat, tucking some hair behind her ear and pushing past the group of gaping men and back out into the living room.

The men watched her walk out before the three men at the door turned back, looking at a very red Sherlock.

John's gaping turned into a smirk as he looked at his flatmate.

"Oh. My. God," John smirked, "I knew it. I fucking knew it…"

"Oh, shut up," he snapped before storming into the living room, cursing under his breath.

John was now smirking as he watched Sherlock storm out.

Lestrade turned to him, still gaping in disbelieving shock.

"Damn lucky bastard. How in the hell does he score a woman like her?" he ranted, "The most socially inept man I have ever met… and he gets a smoking hot, brilliant anthropologist."

"Maybe because he doesn't sexually idolize me," Kylie yelled from the living room, "Are you two done gossiping? We have two psychopaths to deal with."

"I believe you two are in trouble," Mycroft smirked as he began typing on his phone once more.

They all walked back out into the living room to find Kylie and Sherlock sitting on the couch awkwardly.

They all sat, staring at each other… well, more like John was smirking, Lestrade still gaping, and Mycroft no longer paying any attention, while Sherlock and Kylie attempted to pretend it never happened.

"So…" Kylie said trying to pass the awkwardness, "What's the plan for tonight?"

"Are you two, together now?" John asked, completely disregarding Kylie's prior question.

They both shifted awkwardly.

Kylie cleared her throat and looked at Lestrade, "When did you get here?"

"Right before we caught you two making out," John told her, "Now, stop avoiding the question, and answer it."

"Seriously, can you guys just back off?" Kylie asked.

Lestrade chuckled, "No, absolutely not."

Kylie glared at him.

"So, do you two need a moment to go update your facebook relationship status' or what?" John grinned.

"Leave it alone John," Kylie glowered, "Can we make a plan so none of us get killed by a psychopath when we go to Bart's tonight?"

"Wait, you're going now?" John asked, looking at Sherlock.

"Yes, she's going," Sherlock told him as he assumed his thinking stance.

"Wait, I missed something," Lestrade said in confusion, "Going to what?"

"You have got to be kidding me Sherlock!" John gaped, "You two have been bickering all morning about it! And now suddenly you've changed your mind after we found the two of you…" John trailed off suddenly smiling, "What promise was made in that bedroom?"

Kylie glared at John, while Sherlock gave him a genuinely confused look.

"What do you mean promises?" Sherlock asked.

"Seriously?" Lestrade asked him, giving him a look of surprise.

Kylie rolled her eyes at the men and dropped her head in pure embarrassment.

_Someone kill her now…_

"Don't be alarmed Sherlock," Mycroft said looking up from his phone, "It has to do with sex."

_When was this discussion going to be over?_

"Sex doesn't alarm me," Sherlock said sitting up straight, "I just don't understand what it has to do with what happened in my room."

Mycroft smirked back down at his phone, while John and Lestrade gaped at him.

"You're serious?" Lestrade asked, not being able to believe his ears.

Sherlock looked at him blankly.

"You seriously don't think…"

"Can we PLEASE get off the subject of our romantic…" Kylie yelled before trailing off, not really knowing what on earth to call what they had together.

_Involvement? Relationship?_

God, she wished this was easier…

"Tension ready to burst at the seams?" Lestrade suggested.

"Okay!" Kylie said getting up, "I'm done. I'll be at the Yard trying to work on the case. That is, if anyone still cares about the case."

And with that, she got up, grabbed her bag and stormed out.

"Well, I'd better go with her," Lestrade said as he got up, "With Thomas out and all. See you lot later."

Sherlock watched Lestrade follow Kylie out, only to feel a set of eyes on him. He turned to see John staring at him, trying his best not to smirk.

"What happened last night?" he asked as casually as possible.

Sherlock looked at him, glaring.

"Fine," John said, readjusting his position in the chair, "Well, let me ask this at least; what _are _the two of you?"

Sherlock frowned at him, not understanding the question.

"Girlfriend?" John flat out asked, "Is she your girlfriend?"

"Why does this even matter?" Sherlock asked as he leapt up, clearly uncomfortable with the question, clearly wanting to get out of sight.

"John is simply asking what the definitions and intentions of your romantic... Involvement with Miss Gibbs is," Mycroft drawled as he looked up at his little brother who had taken refuge in the kitchen.

"There is no definition or intention," Sherlock ranted, "Now, can we please focus on the case?"

"No," John told him, "You just opened pandora's box with your female friend who has more baggage than anyone I have ever met, and you don't think that starting a romantic relationship with her when she is at her weakest and most vulnerable, is an issue at all?"

"It's not!"

John sighed and put his head in his hands.

"Every woman wants a definition little brother," Mycroft told him.

"Kylie doesn't," Sherlock bit back before he looked his brother up and down, "and like you would know..."

"And you would?" Mycroft countered with a raised eyebrow.

Sherlock glowered at his brother.

"Sherlock, this is serious," John told him, "You can't yank her around. If you want to keep this going, you have to put a title to it..."

"Title?"

"Just…ask her to be your girlfriend," John informed him.

"Why does she need that title?"

"Because Sherlock, it's what you do when you fancy a girl. You ask her out, get to know her, flirt, make a move, and then ask her to be in a committed relationship with you as your girlfriend. Though for you, the first three of those occurred in the form of solving murders over the past six months..."

Sherlock leaned up against the kitchen counter. None of this had occurred to him. He didn't date. He didn't want a girlfriend like most men desired. But this new feeling with Kylie... not to mention the feelings that he had been trying to control over the last six months made every bone in his body want to fight to keep this… what ever this was… going.

He never really thought about how relationships had worked. He was above that. He didn't mingle with women, seeking sexual pleasure, closeness, and emotional bonding…

Shock hit him like a lighting bolt.

_Dear Lord… that's exactly what he he was doing… _

solving cases with Kylie.

Her becoming nearly inseparable from both her and John.

His attraction to her.

The chemicals surging inside his brain as he found himself actually being effected by her pheromones.

The fact that he now actually enjoyed kissing.

The fact that all he wanted to do was be close to her.

He actually wanted to enjoy an emotional connection.

There was one single factor. Occam's Razor: the simplest explanation is almost always the correct one.

That single factor was Kylie. This one woman had turned his whole world upside down.

Did he really, seriously want an actual relationship?

"Sherlock?" John's voice said, pulling him out of his thoughts, "Are you even listening to me?"

"Well, even if he does become a _Goldfish_," Mycroft said snidely to his brother, hoping he would take the hint as he rose from his chair, "He has to get through tonight if he even does decide to have a future with the unfortunate Miss Gibbs. May I suggest you focus on that for more than a brief moment?"

_The case… right…_

"Moriarty wants us to meet him, but why?" Sherlock asked, jumping into full-case mode once more as John rolled his eyes and shot Mycroft a look.

"I almost had a break through, thanks for that."

Mycroft smiled in return as Sherlock paced, "I am just speaking the truth John."

"No, you are just as ignorant about relationships as he is," John told him.

"Good luck tonight John," Mycroft told him as he walked out, "We'll be watching of course."

"Yeah…" John sighed as he rolled his eyes and began watching his now nearly manic flatmate pace once more.

"Why John? WHY?!"

"Uh, because he's a psychopath who is a kitten and sees you as his favorite ball of yarn to bat around?"

Sherlock shot him a look, "What kind of metaphor is that?"

"Fitting."

Sherlock stared for a moment before continuing, "Its probably a trap…."

"You think?" John scoffed.

"Yes, but what does he want?"

"Kylie. I thought we had established that?"

"No, Thomas wants Kylie… Moriarty on the other hand…" Sherlock said as he sat on the couch with his hands in front of his face in his thinking stance, "We'll just have to see."

John sighed for what was probably the hundredth time that day.

This was stupid… so stupid… but unfortunately, John also knew there was no way of avoiding this. Moriarty wanted to play… and he wouldn't hesitate to kill to get Sherlock to come out.

**Different… here's where things start to change you guys.**

**FYI: there are going to be more and more changes to the original story coming up… that, and please understand the fact that I wrote this entire series (four books) before season 3 came out. Though, some similar ideas did happen, it obviously didn't happen in the same way. I will take and use somethings, and somethings, I wont at all. So please do not get upset at me for not following and including every detail from the new season. While it was amazing, I have created and imputed my own character. I came up with my own version of Mary… and despite the fact that I ADORED her in the show… she wasn't… how I thought she would be in anyway shape or form…**

**What I am trying to say, is bare with me. Things WILL differ, and I will change and add somethings, but the timeline and stuff will be different in these stories as well as the fact that this is a story I am writing and sort of re-winging as I am going. I dont plan this all out like a large art show. I just kind of have a general sense, and go with it. **

**Okay… I'm ranting..**

**More on that later. **

**Review? Pretty please?**


	31. Chapter 31

**I know I say the same thing every chapter, but SERIOUSLY… I am completely overwhelmed with you guys! You are amazing! Thank you so much for all the feedback! Seriously! I really appreciate it! Thank you so much!**

**Here's the next one guys! Enjoy!**

Kylie sat in her office at the Yard, glaring at her computer screen as she tried to sort things out silently in her head.

She hated the fact that they had been caught red-handed making out. Lestrade had been so intolerable as he had been sitting in her office to 'keep an eye on her', smirking and asking questions until she finally kicked him out of her office to his own.

She sighed and ran a hand through her hair. It wasn't the fact that she was ashamed that they knew that they were… well… UGH!

This was the issue. She had told him that they were going to take it slow. Sherlock had no idea what he was doing.

…well actually he did… he knew exactly what he was doing.

_God… that kiss…_

She shut her eyes and put her head in her hands. What in the hell was going on?

In less than 24 hours, Thomas has barged back into her life, threatened her, her family, and her friends, and she had started something with her brilliant friend.

This stuff never happened to her. She knew, deep within herself that there was no way she should be starting anything with Sherlock. She was a rape victim. Thomas had ruined her in more ways than one. She hardly trusted anyone with her emotions and her feelings. Sure, on the outside she seemed to be fine, but she never truly exposed any more of herself than she had to.

Now that people knew about it though… it complicated everything.

They hadn't even figured anything out. She was a mess of emotional chaos and mistrust, while he was, she guessed, new to letting people in. He had been awkward in making a move a move to kiss her, timid almost. That's how she had known he had really, truly never kissed anyone other than doing it out of social protocol. It was a shock to her; a handsome, brilliant man like him had never desired to kiss a woman.. to make an actual move. He was a red-blooded male. He had to have urges.

He had responded when she kissed him, but seemed shock when that involuntary groan had escaped him. Almost as if he had buried his hormonal response deep within himself somehow until it had resurfaced when he kissed her.

She smiled slightly. As strange as it was, it was slightly flattering that he told her that she was the first person that he had ever been attracted to, as well as desired to kiss.

Her smile grew as her heart fluttered. He had been timid and tender with her. She had seen him throw down with criminals, been cold to other people, but with her… he was warm, caring… She felt cherished with him. Like he…actually cared about her. A man hadn't made her feel like that in a romantic since, since Thomas did when they first got together. Even then… this was different… so much more intense.

Despite all that, she wasn't sure if launching into this whole thing with him was a good idea. It had been six months since Thomas had done those things to her. These feelings were mounting, but she didn't want to end up hurting him if she got in too deep. She was afraid that suddenly, her fears would come right back and she would pull away and run away. Sherlock was a good man, the last thing she wanted to do was hurt him or push him too quickly into something that he wasn't ready for, just for her to feel secure.

She knew herself. She knew that he could make her fall quickly. He was brilliant, witty, handsome, and passionate…

He had a habit of making her angrier than anyone ever had, only to turn around and make her weak at the knees.

_God, she needed to get ahold of herself._

Thomas was killing people. That was what she had to focus on stopping.

"_Father of mine. Tell me where have you been?…"_

She rolled her eyes and looked at her phone.

Her Dad… again…

She sighed and picked up the phone. Better to just get this over with.

"Hey Dad," she told him, trying to sound as normal as possible.

_"What's going on Kylie?"_

"Nothing," she shrugged, "Sorry, I've been missing your calls. Got caught up in a case."

"_Stop lying Kylie,_" her father growled, "_You called Tony in near hysterics. Scared the shit out of him, and then have been avoiding me. What in the hell happened?"_

"Nothing," she lied, "I'm sorry about that. I got freaked out about similarities in a case. Sherlock knocked some sense into me."

Her father was silent on the other end of the line.

"Still there Dad?" she asked.

_"I'm just waiting for you to cut the bull, Kyleigha."_

"Dad, there's nothing going on."

_"Why wont you tell me Ky? Am I going to have to track down those friends of yours and ask?"_

"No," she scoffed, "I have enough going on with them right now."

_"That Sherlock fellow finally made a move, now didn't he?"_

Kylie stared at her desk in shock. How in the HELL did her father do that?

_"I'm right, aren't I?"_ she heard her father say with amusement.

"Yeah," she said shaking her head, "He kissed me. Last night."

_"After he knocked some sense into you?"_

"Dad…"

Gibbs chuckled on the other end of the line, "And now its confusion and a lot of questions…?"

"John, Lestrade, and his brother walked in on us kissing… JUST kissing. And now they won't shut up about it."

Gibbs began chuckling on the other end of the line.

"Its not funny Dad!"

"_Its funny,_" he told her, "_Its pretty damn funny actually_."

"Why?"

"_Because you two have been dancing around each other since you moved there. And the fact that you two just figured it out, as brilliant as you both are is hilarious."_

Kylie rolled her eyes.

"Thanks Dad."

"_So he your new boyfriend then?_"

"God! You are just as bad as they are!"

"_So he is?_"

"Dad. It literally just happened this morning."

"_So, I obviously need to have a talk with him…_"

"Dad, I love you. But I am 27 years old. Butt the hell out."

"_You're still my daughter."_

She rolled her eyes.

"Please, do not call him or come over here."

_"Something is obviously wrong."_

"Dad, I told you. I'm fine. I had a small freak out, but I'm fine. Sherlock knocked some since into me."

_"Or kissed it into you?"_

"Dad…."

_"Okay."_

She noticed Lestrade hang up the phone quickly and stand up, walking quickly towards her office.

"Hey, I just got a lead on a case, I gotta go. I'll call you later?"

_"Love you Bug. Be careful."_

"Love you too, bye Dad."

She hung up the phone and looked up as Lestrade burst into her office.

"A bike messenger just dropped a package at your flat," Lestrade told her, "John just called, you weren't picking up your phone."

"What was in it?" she asked.

"Dunno," he told her, "Its addressed to you. We do have some respect for your privacy, you know?"

Kylie gave him a look as she grabbed her phone and a bag, and walked over out to his car before they drove back to Baker Street.

***& * #()) **

Kylie climbed the steps up to 221B two at a time, with Lestrade right behind her to find Sherlock pouring over an unmarked package.

"Kylie," John said as he straightened from his seat across from the package.

Sherlock stood and turned around to see Kylie walking over to them, frowning at the package.

"This… came for me?" she asked, puzzled.

"Addressed to you, no return address. Mrs. Hudson saw a Bike messenger dropping it off," Sherlock told her as he took in her reaction.

She just stared at the package.

"No obvious markings, nor anything special about the paper its wrapped in, nor the handwriting…"

"Its Thomas's hand writing," she told him.

The room went silent.

"Are you sure its Thomas's?" John asked gently.

"We were together for four years, John. I think I know his hand writing," Kylie muttered as she took a step forward.

Sherlock watched her pale, slightly as she timidly reached her hands out towards the package. She hesitated for a moment before reaching out and quickly tearing the paper off the box as if it was going to burn her at any moment.

She took a breath as she stared at the plain box. She shut her eyes and tried to calm herself once more.

"Ky," Sherlock said quietly, trying to urge her to continue opening the package.

"Yeah," she said breathlessly before she continued to open the box, peering inside.

"A book?" Lestrade frowned as Kylie gently pulled out the book.

"A book of fairy tales," Kylie said breathlessly.

She gazed at the well worn leather bound cover.

She set it down and opened it up to find an inscription on the first page

When will you end the game?

"Yeah, that's totally normal," John commented as he read the inscription as well.

Kylie looked up at him for a moment as Sherlock gently took the book from her, turning the page as he flipped through it.

It was as if the book had been personalized and well worn. He flipped trough the elegant pages of writing and pictures, before something crossed his mind.

"It's his plan," Sherlock told them as he continued flipping through.

"Plan?" Lestrade asked.

"Yes, his plan," Sherlock continued, "This book is custom made. The first story is 'the Riddle', followed by the 'tale of Cupid and Psyche'."

"Oh God," Kylie muttered in horror as she sat down in one of the chairs once more before looking up at Sherlock, "It's his warning. He's going to kill people until I give in."

Sherlock clenched his jaw in order to prevent himself from speaking as he looked at her. He was bursting to say he'd probably continue killing after. A man like Thomas got off on the kill. But he knew telling her that would just upset her more; so for once in his life, Sherlock Holmes bit his tongue.

"What's the next story then?" John asked, "If we can figure it out, maybe we can stop it."

"Sleeping beauty," Sherlock read out, "followed by Snow White."

"So we just need to look in a castle and a forbidden forest filled with dwarves. Perfect," John said sarcastically as he leaned up against the back of a chair.

"It has to be simpler than that," Sherlock muttered, obviously missing the sarcasm.

John and Lestrade looked at Sherlock in amazement.

"We have to stop him," Kylie said as she shook her head, "Tonight, we have to convince Moriarty that Thomas is betraying him… or something."

"That won't work," Sherlock dismissed, "Moriarty thoroughly researches his associates. Not to mention Thomas worked for him for years now, even right under your nose."

"Thanks for the reminder," Kylie said bitterly.

He just looked at her, regretting his comment instantly.

"Either way, we are just going to have to walk into Moriarty's trap tonight, aren't we?" John sighed.

***&#*( &^# ***

It was 11:55 that night, when Sherlock, Kylie, and John walked into Bart's hospital. They were carefully and quietly walking down the corridor towards the morgue, trying not to raise any attention to themselves in the empty hallway, as they had no idea what on earth was waiting behind those doors.

They reached the door and paused, all taking out their weapons, John and Kylie removed their own, while Sherlock took out the weapon Lestrade had given him.

Kylie felt her heart racing out of her chest as stared at the door.

_This was it…_

Sherlock made to open the door, before he stopped to turn and look at her.

"Wait out here," he told her.

Kylie gave him a look.

"Uh… no…" she told him before she tried to force her way forward, only to have Sherlock step in front of her, preventing her from doing so. She ran into his chest, looking up at him as she saw his eyes soften at her.

_God, he was close…_

"Now, is not the time to make out," John commented as he watched the pair stare at each other, only inches apart.

"I'm not going to let you get hurt," he told her sternly, "Let John and I go first."

His eyes searched her as they continued to stare at each other.

"Okay," she told him, nodding.

Sherlock turned and walked back over to the door, ensuring that Kylie was behind both him and John and that they were ready before he opened the door, entering the morgue with his gun drawn with John and Kylie right behind him.

"What the…" John muttered as he lowered his weapon.

Kylie felt her breath catch in her throat. Not in a thousand years would she have guessed that this is what would lay behind the morgue door.

Someone had transformed the morgue of Bart's hospital into what looked like a medieval bedroom. Candles lined just about every surface, while Rose petals were scattered intermittently. Upon the central autopsy table lay a woman, dressed in a long-sleeved ball gown; her red hair flowing off the table as she lay still, her hands clasped around a vial.

_Why did that woman look familiar?_

"Oh my God," Kylie muttered, "Molly!"

The three of them sprinted over to the table, guns forgotten, to see if she was still alive.

"She's still warm," Kylie said as she lifted up her eyelid to check her pupils.

"She's alive," John said, feeling for a pulse, "She's barely got a pulse. We need to get her help. Now."

Sherlock took off his jacket, covering her up to help her maintain her body heat, as he grabbed the vial out of her hands, pocketing it as they began to wheel the table out of the morgue.

They hadn't moved three feet before something caught John's eye, causing him to look down and his heart to sink in his chest.

Little red dots of laser scopes began to dot his chest and the chests of his companions. The morgue was a pit with windowed rooms all around and above them. It was trap. They had all stupidly walked into a hornet's nest.

"Shit," Kylie cursed at she and Sherlock had realize the same thing.

The three friends looked at each other, quickly losing hope, all praying that they hadn't made a fatal mistake.

**I have an addiction to Cliffhangers… and reviews…**

**So review? :D**


	32. Chapter 32

**I am SO sorry guys! I am slacking with Chapters and getting back to people on PMs! I apologize! I had a bunch of stuff come up lately and school starts again for me tomorrow! So I am sorry for the delay! Please bare with me!**

**A HUGE Thnks to my amazing reviewers! I seriously love you guys!**

**Its short, but its a post!**

**Enjoy!**

Sherlock, John, and Kylie all froze when they noticed the red dots of laser scopes appearing on them. They glanced at each other, silently trying to come up with a plan, when they heard a voice drawl from a darkened corner of the room.

"Oh Looky!" A creepily happy voice said as a man in a suit walked out of the dark, "The whole little gang is here! The virgin, the pet, and the beauty…"

The man smiled at Kylie with a deranged grin, "Thomas said you were pretty, and he certainly wasn't exaggerating," he told her as he looked her up and down, causing Kylie's stomach to shift uncomfortably.

She felt Sherlock tense beside her, seeing his fists clench out of the corner of her eye, hidden by the gurney from John and Moriarty's eyes. Kylie gently moved her hand, so her pinky brushed his fist, trying to subtly communicate with him.

"James Moriarty, I presume?" she asked as calmly as she could.

"OH! You've heard of me?" Moriarty said flirtingly as he shoved his hands into his pockets and strolled towards them, "Its Jim, by the way. Your new boyfriend didn't tell you enough about me. That hurts…Sherlock." He looked at Sherlock, pouting slightly, "You ditch me and then go and get yourself a girlfriend? Its touch, really. Almost makes it seem like you have feelings…"

"I don't," Sherlock told him.

Moriarty smiled before slowly reaching in his jacket and pulling out a video camera card.

"Really?" he asked raising an eyebrow at him, "Because I have a tape that says you do." He smiled and looked over at Kylie, "The hottest non-sextape I've ever seen. Thomas was right, you do have moves."

Kylie fought not to vomit.

"You know nothing," Sherlock told him, trying to control himself and not break from his stony glare, knowing Morairty would eat it up if he knew he was getting to him.

Moriarty looked at him in slight surprise, "Ooh… how adorable! You are trying to put on a facade for the girlfriend!" he said as he walked towards him, "We both know that we are very much alike, Sherlock."

He stopped and pouted at him, "Don't hurt my feelings over a girl." He stopped and extended his fist, "Bro's before hoes man."

Sherlock just stared at him for a moment, "We aren't as alike as you think."

"That's because you're boring."

"Boring?"

"You're on the side of the angels."

"I'm no hero."

"You act it though."

"Is that a compliment?"

"No it isn't."

"Yes, it is."

"Yeah, okay it is!"

Sherlock smirked slightly at his victory.

"What do you want?" Sherlock asked.

"You," Moriarty said smoothly, "out of my way. I've had fun with these little games, but I've had enough now…"

"Let me guess," Sherlock drawled, "If I don't, you'll kill me?"

Moriarty rolled his eyes, "How unimaginative," he sighed. "No, I'll burn you. I'll burn the heart out of you…" He turned his attention then to Kylie and John, smiling at them, "I'll start with the pet, then give Thomas his prize." He smiled even more as he purposely looked Kylie up and down, trying to rouse a reaction, "After I'm done with her that is…"

Kylie felt vomit creep up her throat as she felt as if she was going to there up.

"Bite me," she told him through gritted teeth, fighting her disgust.

"Ooh… feisty!"

"Trust me creep, touch me? And you'll regret it."

"Just like Thomas has?" Moriarty inquired, "Oh, wait…"

"Thomas will pay for his actions. Not for just what he did to me, but what he has done for all those people he killed."

Moriarty laughed at her, "Oh, how darling. You actually believe in the justice system like an innocent little flower. It just simply adorable!" He paused, becoming more serious as he looked at her, "The world is run my money, sex, and power, my dear. With sex you buy power. With money you buy power. And with power, you can rule the world. You see, there is no such thing as right and wrong, black and white; only a vast amount of grey space and who has the most power and pull."

He stepped closer to Kylie, directly opposite of her from the table Molly was lying on. He put his hands on her, leaning over so that he was about a foot away from Kylie, not caring that Molly was in the way.

"And you, love… You could have as much power as you wanted to."

Kylie didn't know who overtook her; whether it was her mind going blank from disgust, or her going into what psychologist referred to as "seeing red", but before she knew it, her fist connected with Moriarty's nose.

CRACK

Moriarty recoiled as Kylie shook her hand in pain. Something had cracked. She just wasn't sure if it was her hand, Moriarty's nose, or both.

"Ooh! GOOD!" he said as he took a handkerchief out of his pocket as he wiped the blood off his face, "Very good! I like ones with fire!"

Sherlock grabbed Kylie before she could lunge at him again, as John stepped in front of her and table Molly was on, protectively.

Moriarty just sniffed and looked at the blood on his handkerchief as he walked toward the other end of the room.

"Consider this your warning," he told them, "Don't keep hunting me or my men…" he stopped as he completed his trek across the room; stopping and turning back towards them, "Or there will be consequences."

He glanced up at the fishbowl ceiling before snapping his fingers and walking out the door. The red dots disappeared immediately, causing John to let out a sigh of relief before turning back to Molly, checking her vitals.

"Her breathings getting shallower," he told them with worry, "We need to get her help. Now."

Kylie nodded, snapping her attention back to the young coroner who needed their help as they pushed her down the hallway to the main hospital.

They were to the A&E in less than five minutes, bursting into the packed waiting room, towards a slightly stunned nurse at the front desk.

"What in the hell…?" she said as she stood up, wondering why in the hell they were wheeling a dead girl in the A&E.

"This woman needs help," John told her before she could finish the sentence, "Her pulse and breathing are shallow…"

"Who the hell are you?" the nurse asked.

John just looked up at her incredulously, "Dr. John Watson. A certified medical doctor. Now, if you are done questioning my resume, this woman is dying!"

The nurse looked at him.

"She was poisoned with this," Sherlock told her, pulling the vile she had had clasped in her hand out of his pocket, handing it to her, "She doesn't have much time left."

The nurses eyes flicked to the vile, then to John, then to Molly before she nodded, and immediately called for a doctor before wheeling her down the hall towards oncoming help.

The three of them watched her go down the hallway and disappear, all not knowing what to think anymore.

Suddenly, as if he just remembered, Sherlock turned to Kylie.

"You alright?"

"Yeah," she told him as she nodded, still looking down the now empty hallway, before turning to him, "I'm okay."

He looked at her for a second before his gaze dropped down to his hand. It was bruised, swollen, and bloody. He gently reached out for it, grabbing it softly as he brought it up to look at it. She flinched in pain at the slight pressure as he looked it over.

"John," he said, drawing the attention of the doctor who had been trying to take in what had just happened.

"What?" he asked as Kylie's hand caught his eye, "Oh! Your hand. Right." He gently took her hand from Sherlock,"Let me have a look." He surveyed her hand with a careful eye for a moment before making his diagnosis, "Yeah, its broken."

He looked up as he lowered Kylie's hand, "Let me go see if I can get some bandages to splint that for you."

John gave her one last quick smile before walking down the hallway to look for supplies.

Kylie watched him before she looked down at her hand, feeling eyes on her. She looked up to find Sherlock staring at her.

She smiled at him, "What?"

He looked at her for a moment in shock, before shaking his head, snapping himself out of his trance as he looked away from her, "Nothing."

Kylie just smirked at him.

"Yeah," She said, knowing what he was saying in his own Sherlock fashion, "I'm glad you are okay too."

**Short sorry guys! I'll try to get them out faster! My life just exploded on me!**


	33. Chapter 33

**Okay guys! I am really sorry. I started school and have begun working, and doing research as well as trying to have this thing called a social life that I am usually unfamiliar with. This chapter was completely (re)orginal, so that's why it took me so long to actually post. ITs a bit easier when you have already written the chapters… but after some conversations with some of my amazing readers, I felt that it was needed. **

**Sorry its short! I have to run to class… but a HUGE thanks to all of my amazing reviewers! Seriously, you guys are the best and really the only reason why I am still writing this!**

John, Sherlock, and Kylie all sat in Baker Street in silence later that night. Sherlock was standing in front of the fireplace as he stared at the compilation of evidence they had in front of them, trying to put together the clues. John was glancing at it as well as he kept habitually running his finger around the ring of his mug of tea, trying to put together something of his own.

Kylie however kept fidgeting with the bandages John had splinted her hand with. It was killing her, but she refused to take anything. She hated pain meds, and with all that was happening, she needed to be fully alert and aware to beat both Thomas and Moriarty.

Molly was in critical condition. Two women had been murdered. This was insane. Thomas wanted her, and Moriarty… well, she wasn't quite sure what he wanted, but these psychopaths needed to be stopped.

"The hint has to be in the Morphine," Sherlock muttered suddenly as his eyes still searched the wall.

Both Kylie and John looked up at him, before exchanging a curious look.

"I'm sorry?" John commented to him, "Morphine?"

"Yes, of course Morphine," Sherlock sighed in slight frustration before turning back to look at him, "Clear liquid, slight smell, the decreased heart and respiratory rate? Its really quite obvious."

Sherlock paused and looked at him for a moment, "Didn't you go to Medical School?" he frowned before turning back and looking back at the photos once more.

John glared at his friend for the shot.

"Yeah, John," Kylie said flatly with a slight smirk, "Come on its obvious."

John looked at Kylie and smiled at her sarcastic poke, feeling better that Kylie had been lost on the whole morphine thing as well.

"There has to be something here…" Sherlock began muttering once more, "There always is…"

"They both are psychotic, Sherlock," Kylie told him as she kept playing with the bandages, "There may not be."

"There's something," he told her as he pulled the desk chair over and sat down in front of the fire, starting at the photos, "There's always something."

John sighed and looked at Kylie, silently telling her that they were about to be here for a while as Sherlock had just gone into his thinking stance. Kylie sighed as well and leaned back on the couch, wracking her mind for something to help the case.

**&^**#(*() (# **

_Nothing._

_Nothing._

_Maybe…._

_No. _

_Dammit. _

_Something there was something. _

_Fairy tales. _

_Morphine. _

_Greek Tale_

_It had to be connected. _

"No…" a small voice whimpered.

Sherlock was pulled out of his thoughts and back to reality as he looked around in confusion.

The room was dark. Only the small table lamp was on and the fire roaring was what had been illuminating the photos for him. A plate covered in foil had been left on the table for him.

Mrs. Hudson was taking care of them again…

John was no where in sight, probably had gone up to bed.

How much time had passed?

"No Thomas, stop… " the meek voice whimpered again.

Sherlock turned all the way around to see Kylie curled in a ball on the couch, fast asleep. Her face was contorted into fear as she twitched slightly in her sleep.

"Stop get off me…." she whimpered once more.

_Nightmare; she was having a nightmare. _

Sherlock felt himself timidly stand, slowly walking over to her as he wracked his mind of what to do.

He didn't know why, but the scenario of waking a sleeping woman from a nightmare had never crossed his mind. He wanted to get her out of the flashback she was having, yet he didn't know if he should touch her.

"Kylie…"

"Thomas stop!" she said a little more loudly as the dream intensified, thrashing a little.

"Kylie, wake up," he said a he knelt down next to the couch, hesitating touching her.

"Stop I said no!"

"KYLIE!" he said as he touched her, causing her to thrash away from his touch.

She was going to hurt herself…

"KYLIE WAKE UP!"

Her eyes shot open as she scrambled away from his touch, to the other side of the small couch, looking at him with wide eyes, before he face softened into confusion.

He stared at her in slight surprise for a moment.

"It was just a dream," he told her quietly.

She stared at him for a moment before she looked around the room carefully, taking a shaky breath and running a hand through her hair as her body relaxed slightly.

"You alright?" he asked carefully, unsure of what he was supposed to do in this situation.

"Yeah," she laughed off, "Yeah, it was just a silly nightmare."

"It sounded like a flashback."

Kylie froze and looked up at him, her face paling slightly.

It was his turn to look at her in confusion.

"I was… talking in my sleep?" she asked.

"Yeah."

She swallowed and slowly nodded, shutting her eyes in embarrassment before looking up at him with a sad smile and tears in her eyes.

"I guess that's why I hate sleeping, and I hate being alone," she told him quietly, "I can't get through a night without having that dream. I didn't know I was talking though."

"You didn't wake up last night," he said as he looked at her.

She dropped her gaze and bit her lip, "Last night was the first night I didn't have the nightmares."

Her eyes flicked back up to his. They were locked in a stare.

Sherlock had no idea what she meant by the odd coincidence of her not having a nightmare the night prior when she had spent the night in his bed, wrapped in his arms, but he found himself confused about the strange look she now had on her face as she was leaning towards him.

Her lips landed on his, softly, causing his eyes to flutter shut as his stomach flipped and electricity surged through his body.

He had never had this sort of sensation, almost a high, when he had kissed a woman before… in fact, he doubted that anything had ever came close to giving him this feeling of jubilance.

Kylie put her arms around him, pulling herself down into his lap, straddling his hips as she broke the kiss and began kissing her way down his neck. He fought a sigh as his arms wove their way around her, holding her tight to his body as he tried to hold some sort of control over his body.

Not being able to take her minstrations anymore, he brought her face back up to his, kissing her once more. Her hands began making their way down his chest, playing with the buttons of his dress shirt before she began unbutton his shirt with a since of urgency.

Shock ran through his body as he stiffened and broke the kiss, looking at her in confusion. She paused for only a second before she tried to kiss him once more, only for him to pull away.

"Please," she whispered as she kept unbuttoning his shirt as she kissed his neck instead.

"Ky, stop," he told her as he gently grabbed her hands, preventing her from unbuttoning his shirt even more as he pulled back to look at her.

She timidly looked up at him, wondering what she had done wrong.

He looked down, avoiding her eye as he still held her hands in his.

"Kylie, you were just assaulted…"

"Six months ago," she told him before moving to kiss him once more, only to have him move once more.

"You just had a flashback. Its obviously still effecting you," he told her.

He felt her body shrink slightly as she looked down at his chest, avoiding direct eye contact.

"With Thomas emerging once more, you feel the need to…" he trailed off, glancing up at her, not really sure where he was going with this.

He cleared his throat and shifted, "I'm not going to take advantage of you."

Sherlock's eyes flicked back up to look at her, taking him slightly a back as he saw shame covering her face.

She shut her eyes before her arms went around his neck and she leaned forward and kissed his cheek before silently burying her face into his neck as she hugged him tightly.

Sherlock just stared at the couch in complete confusion with this woman. She was a rape victim, yet in this hysteria, she had thrown herself at him… to what? Feel close? For comfort. He didn't understand sex… obviously it was genetically engrained in all human beings, but why on earth was this woman acting this way?

He awkwardly wrapped his arms around her small frame, trying to wrack his mind to figure out what was going on.

**^&^#*&( * )**

John yawned as he walked quietly down the stairs the following morning. He had slept like shit. Molly in the hospital and the impending doom of both Thomas and Moriarty together had kept him up most of the night, but he was sure he felt better than if he had just been in that chair all night.

He walked into the living room running a hand over his face, as he quickly scanned the living room for his flatmate, only to stop in his tracks.

John felt a small smile began to break out over his face as he caught sight of Sherlock sitting on the floor of the living room, leaning up against the couch as his eyes were still staring at the photos across the room on the fireplace, while a sleeping Kylie was cuddled into his side and laying on his chest; the small throw blanket wrapped around her.

Sherlock awkwardly looked over at John, a slight blush creeping up his neck as John just smirked at him. Sherlock just cleared his throat and looked back at the photos, trying to ignore John's smirk and the fact that he was being blatantly affectionate to a woman in front of John.

"The morphine was the clue. It only makes sense," Sherlock told him quickly and quietly, trying to prevent John from commenting as well as not wake Kylie, "Sleeping beauty was the next story in the book Thomas sent us. He overdosed Molly on Morphine to replicate the same effects. Meaning the next person he attacks will replicate the story of Snow White."

He stopped talking for a moment, giving John another uneasy stare as he felt his friend still smirking at him.

"So we might want to tell Lestrade to be on the look out for seven dwarves," Sherlock continued, joking slightly as he saw John's grin widen even more, causing him to glance at him once more.

"What?" he snapped, turning to look at him completely.

John just kept grinning at him as his eyes took in the whole scene of his flatmate allowing a woman to sleep on his chest as he held her, before he shook his head.

"Nothing," John told him grinning, "Absolutely nothing."

Sherlock huffed as he turned back to the photos as footsteps pounded up the stairs.

It only took a moment for Lestrade to burst through the front door.

"Molly's in the…" he began only to stop and trail off in slight shock at the same sight John had been grinning over.

Lestrade just gaped for a moment before he began grinning as well.

Sherlock glared daggers as Kylie began shifting and let out a slight sound as she began to wake up.

She rubbed her eyes and nuzzled her head into Sherlock's chest even more before she felt eyes on her. She frowned and slowly turned over to see a smirking John and Lestrade grinning at them.

"Oh, hey," she said, missing why they were grinning at her, "What are you doing here, Greg?"

Lestrade opened his mouth a couple times, except nothing came out. He was speechless at the sight of his anthropologist and on-hand consulting detective in an intimate, yet casual embrace.

He tried once more before shutting his mouth and shaking his head, "No reason," he finally got out.

Kylie frowned and ran a hand through her hair, sitting up as she did,

"Okay…"

They all stood there in silence; John and Lestrade still smiling, Kylie looking in confusion, and Sherlock glaring daggers and fighting a blush.

RING RING RING

Kylie raised an eyebrow at Lestrade.

"You going to get your phone, Greg?"

"Oh, right," Lestrade said as he pulled his phone out of his jacket pocket, glancing up at the couple on the floor and smirking once more before he answered his phone and stepped out of the flat for a moment.

John watched him walk out before he walked into the kitchen, filling the kettle.

"You hear any word on Molly yet?" he asked.

"She'll make a full recovery," Sherlock said as he winced slightly, standing up off the floor.

_He knew he shouldn't have sat on the floor for that long…._

He reached out a hand to help Kylie up off the floor as well.

She took it with a small smile as he assisted her off the floor while John banged around in the kitchen.

"Thank you," she told him quietly, "For everything."

He looked at her awkwardly for a moment before nodding.

"You all want tea?" John asked, causing the pair to break their stare.

"Please," Sherlock said as he suddenly walked towards the fireplace, staring at the photos once more, leaving Kylie standing by herself.

"I'll help you, John," Kylie said as she walked into the kitchen just as Lestrade came back into the flat.

"No time for tea you lot," Lestrade told them, "There's been another one, and it has Thomas's name written all over it."

**Short, I know… sorry guys….**

**Anyhow, Review and motivate me to get another chapter up? :D**


	34. Chapter 34

**Sorry I've been slow guys! Ive been crazy busy! BUt I combined two chapters for you! (Still its short… but its better than one!)**

**Anyhow, a huge thanks to all of my amazing reviewers! You guys seriously keep me posting on this! Thanks so much for the amazing encouragement and feedback!**

"Bart's?" Kylie asked as they walked into the hospital once more, "You sure there is a murder victim at Bart's?"

"Molly was attacked her, wasn't she?" Lestrade commented, "Plus Donovan assured me it was definitely linked."

"Like she knows anything…" Kylie muttered under her breath, not having a liking for the Sergeant.

"Come on," Lestrade said as he flashed his badge at the nurse and led them down the hospital corridor, winding through patient rooms, until they reached room 221.

"221?" John commented, "You're kidding."

"Yeah," Lestrade said morbidly, "Coincidence?"

"There's no such thing as coincidences," Kylie muttered bitterly as she looked at the room number, "This was most definitely Thomas."

Sherlock gave her a look before he put his hand on the door knob and pushed the door open, exposing the hospital room that was now their newest crime scene.

A dark haired woman lay in the bed. Her lips were a ruby red, as they were covered in a perfect shade of lipstick. She was pale, so very pale as she lay lifeless on the bed. Nearly all the blood that had once run through her veins having been spilt all over the room, most of it dripping from the cuts in her wrists as it dripped and pooled on the floor. A half eaten apple lay next to her on the bed as if it had just rolled out of her cold, dead hand. The most chilling part however, was the fact that her stomach was exposed, with a chilling phrase carved into her flesh.

_Mirror Mirror on the wall, who is the fairest of them all?_

"Yeah, okay," John said in slight horror, "Okay, I'm now a fan of the 'no coincidences' quote."

"How crazy was your boyfriend, Kylie?" Lestrade asked as he gaped slightly at the scene.

"Jesus, this was your boyfriend?" Donovan asked as she walked out from around the other side of the door, looking at Kylie, "You do like them crazy…"

"Ex-boyfriend," Kylie said shortly through gritted teeth.

"Yeah, you know," Lestrade started to say with a huge grin on his face, "Not the current…"

He trailed off as both Kylie and Sherlock's head turned to glare at him dangerously.

"I dont have…" Kylie began to say, shifting awkwardly as she blushed a bright red, glancing at Sherlock.

"What, a boyfriend?" Lestrade asked, "What do you two call snogging in bedrooms then?"

"What?!" Donovan gaped as even Anderson poked his head out of the back part of the bedroom, gaping at what he had just heard.

"Are you done gossiping Inspector?" Sherlock snapped as a bright blush ran up his neck, "Or can we get back to the case at hand?"

Lestrade just smirked at Sherlock and Kylie's flustering, blushing, and awkwardness over the comment as both avoided eye contact.

Silence covered the room for a moment.

"SO," Kylie said, clearing her throat and trying to get the topic at hand back onto the case, "her blood was drained."

"Well the next story in the book of fairy tales was Snow White," John commented as Sherlock began to examine the scene, "Her skin as white as snow?"

"Would make sense why he drained the blood," Kylie agreed, "To make her even paler than she already was."

"I'm guessing no one saw anything?" John asked.

"No," Donovan said, finally looking away from Kylie and Sherlock, "This ward was closed for the night and she was discovered when the on-call nurse was making her rounds. Called it in."

Kylie and John both stepped forward into the room, beginning to examine the body as well.

"He stabbed these words into her," John said as he examined the wound, "stabbed and dragged the knife."

"God," Kylie muttered as she shook her head, "He couldn't off the poor girl properly, could he?"

John glanced up at her, seeing the pain for the victim on her face.

"She was probably unconscious from the blood loss already," John told her.

Kylie looked up at him and sighed, "I hope so for her sake."

"Mirror, Mirror?" Lestrade asked reading her stomach, "What is that supposed to mean?"

"Yes," Sherlock said as he put away his magnifying glass and stood up, looking around, "Where is the mirror?"

John frowned at him, "Its from the Snow White story, isn't it?"

"Yes, but there will be a mirror. There has to be," Sherlock said as he kept looking around.

"No, Sherlock's right," Kylie said as she frowned and looked around as well, "Thomas is playing games with us. There's a purpose behind everything that he does."

"Kylie," Sherlock said as he stood over a small basin by the sink, examining it with a through eye.

The group walked over to find the basin filled with a silvery metallic liquid, causing them to see their own reflection as they peered into the bowl.

"Mercury?" John asked in puzzlement.

"Can we get some lead gloves in here?" Kylie asked a rubber-necking nurse who she caught trying to peer into the room. The nurse blushed and nodded before she hurried off to fetch the gloves.

"You think he left something in there?" Lestrade asked.

"If I knew Thomas at all, he definitely left something," Kylie told him as she peered into the bowl once more, trying to see anything.

The nurse returned with the gloves and handed them to Kylie before trying to get a better look at the body.

"You have somewhere to be?" Lestrade asked her.

She blushed and slinked out of the room, still trying to look at the body until Lestrade shut the door in annoyance of the growing crowd of onlookers outside.

Kylie glanced back at him before putting on the gloves, struggling with it over the fact that her hand was splinted.

"What in the hell happened to your hand?" Lestrade asked, not having noticed her hand before, "How did I not see that?"

Kylie opened her mouth to answer but didn't as Sherlock snatched the gloves out of her struggling hands, causing her to glare at him as he put the gloves on his own hands and reached into the bowl.

John grinned and looked over at Lestrade, answering for her, "She punched Moriarty with an extremely impressive right hook."

Lestrade gaped before smiling and looking back at his anthropologist, "I knew I instantly liked her for a reason."

"Oh, you mean it had nothing to do with my charming personality?" Kylie quipped back as she watched Sherlock carefully fish through the bowl.

"That too," Lestrade grinned, "But most women don't know how to punch properly, let alone give a right hook that breaks their hand…"

"…and Moriarty's nose," John grinned.

Kylie glanced back that the two men, shrugging slightly, "What can I say? My Daddy raised me right."

Lestrade laughed before they were all distracted by Sherlock pulling what looked to be a bullet and a small piece of paper out of the basin, rinsing them and setting them down on the tray before removing the gloves.

"This has been fired," Kylie said as she picked up the bullet with her good hand, inspecting it closely.

Sherlock opened up the paper, careful not to rip it as he read it aloud.

_What is fair, young, and had what meant most taken away?_

_The substance tells all._

"What in the hell does that mean?" Anderson asked.

"Anderson," Sherlock said in frustration as he looked up, "Shut up, you are making everyone else in the room dumber by the second. Why don't you just leave and save the human race from its continuing path towards regressing back to Neanderthals."

Anderson glared daggers at Sherlock.

Lestrade sighed and turned to him, "Anderson, just leave. You know he will just be intolerable if you stay."

"He's tolerable otherwise?" Anderson countered.

Lestrade gave his forensics man a pointed look, causing him to huff and leave teh room, slamming the door angrily behind him.

The room went silent for a moment, as only Sherlock was the single person who was looking at the evidence as if nothing had happened.

"Well, he's definitely sticking to a theme," John sighed after a moment.

Kylie sighed and ran a hand through her hair, "Let's just hope we can figure it out before he kills another woman."

**^#*( &( *) (_!**

John, Kylie, and Sherlock retreated back to 221B to analyze the cryptic riddle while Lestrade and the rest of the Yard processed the scene.

Kylie sat on the couch gazing at the collage of photos Sherlock had set up on the fireplace while John sat in an armchair watching Sherlock pace in front of the fire.

"This doesn't make sense," Kylie said suddenly in frustration, "Moriarty tells us to back off, yet his right hand man is off killing people and wanting us to solve it. How in the hell are we supposed to stay out of it, when we are given an ultimatum like that?"

"Because they are both psychopaths?" John guessed, "How is anything they do rational?"

Kylie sighed, "True."

"The substance," Sherlock muttered, obviously not tuned into the conversation, "What substance?"

" 'The substance tells all'," John repeated, "No idea."

Sherlock glanced at him before he walked over and picked up the paper, scouring it.

"Parchment, regular basic ink, no substances…." Sherlock thought out loud before Kylie interrupted him.

"Hg," she said as she put her hands out in revelation.

John gave her a curious look while Sherlock gave her a confused one.

"Mercury, that's what he's referring to! The substance we found the riddle and bullet it."

Sherlock looked at her for a moment before the corner of his mouth began to pull up in a grin. he turned back towards the photos as Kylie lept up to join him in front of the fire.

"How would Mercury tell us?" she asked as she looked at the photos, "HG? Periodical element 80?"

Sherlock turned to look at her, watching her intently as she stared at the photos. John smiled as he watched his friend stare at the woman, knowing that his friend's mind wasn't on the case, but lost in staring at the woman next to him.

"What in the hell is it supposed to tell us?" she asked once more. She ran her good hand through her hair before she noticed Sherlock was staring at her.

She gave him a strange look before frowning at him, "What?"

Sherlock just kept staring at her for a moment or two longer blankly before he cleared his throat and turned back to the pictures once more, as if nothing had happened.

"The bullet," he said quickly, "The bullet will give us the clues we need," he ranted as he fished for his phone. "When in the hell is Lestrade going to call with the bullet analysis?"

Kylie gave Sherlock a strange look, before she looked to John for an explanation of Sherlock's strange behavior, only to find him trying to desperately hide a grin.

Sherlock dialed a number and paced manically. It was only for a moment though, as he was sent to voice mail, causing him to hang up and throw his phone down on the chair in frustration.

Kylie raised an eyebrow at him.

"The bullet!" Sherlock yelled in frustration as he began to rant around the flat once more, "It has to be in the bullet! It doesn't make sense! Why doesn't it make sense. It should! Shouldn't it?"

He suddenly wheeled around and looked at Kylie, "Why doesn't it make sense? This was meant for you. Thomas is playing these games to get to you. Think Kylie!" He told her as he grabbed her shoulders, "What is fair, young, and had what meant most taken away?"

She just looked at him, taken aback for a moment, "I don't know Sherlock," she told him.

Sherlock just stared at her for a moment before letting go of her and sulking in the armchair. Kylie looked at him strangely, genuinely puzzled by his behavior as she looked to John, who just shook his head and shrugged.

She looked back at Sherlock, who was glowering at the ground. She sighed and walked over to him, kneeling down at eye level in front of him so that she could be at eye level with him.

"Hey," she said, trying to get his attention. When he still glowered at the ground, and refused to meet her eye, she reached a hand up and put it on cheek, forcing him to look at her. His eyes finally bet hers, "We'll figure this out, okay?"

She stared at him as she could tell this was upsetting him greatly for some unknown reason.

"Why is this case getting to you? You never act like this."

Sherlock just looked at her before he gently reached up and removed her hand from his face, pulling it down as he held it.

"Its not getting to me," he told her.

Kylie searched his eyes for an answer, not finding one, she sighed and stood up, giving his hand another squeeze. "Alright. I'm going to have a shower then," she told them as she walked towards Sherlock's room and the bathroom.

After Kylie left the room John turned and stared at Sherlock until he caught his eye.

"What?"

"Lying to the woman you want to be your girlfriend isn't the best idea."

Sherlock glared, "I wasn't lying."

John smirked slightly.

_Interesting… he didn't correct him on the fact that he stated he wanted Kylie to be his girlfriend…_

"Yeah, you did," John said as he tried to hide his smirk, "You are completely over the edge on this case, more so than usual."

"I'm not," Sherlock stated simply.

"Yeah, you are," John argued, "Since when do you throw your phone on the couch like a teenage girl who's date told her she looked fat in her prom dress?"

Sherlock glared at him.

"This case scares you," John told him leaning forward, "It scares you because someone you care about is at risk."

"I dont care."

"What do you call being protective of her then?"

"Chivalry."

John snorted, "You dont give a crap about social norms."

"Says who?"

"Says the fact that you microwave eyeballs and expect people to read about it in a blog."

"That's an experiment!"

"Fine what do you call you two kissing?"

Sherlock paused for a moment, at a loss before an answer occurred to him.

"A chemical reaction."

"Bull," John called him out, "This is the first woman, let alone person, whom you openly show affection for. You actually care deeply about her."

"I care about you."

"I hope not in the same way."

"Well, if we kissed, people would talk."

John snorted with laughter, causing Sherlock to chuckle for a moment. They sat in silence for a moment as the laughter died out.

John leaned back in his chair and looked at his friend, "Seriously though Sherlock," he told him, "You need to think about what is going on and come to the logical conclusion. When Kylie's life was at risk, I have never seen you so protective. Hell, just a few minutes ago, she put you in a trance. You had no idea what was going on around you. She was the only thing in the world that mattered to you. That, right there, should be a sign."

Sherlock was silent.

"That, is love and adoration. And you should never let that go."

Sherlock just stared at him as John picked up the paper and began reading it. They remained this way until Kylie came out of Sherlock's room in yoga pants and her father's sweatshirt. Just as Kylie came out, and opened her mouth to say something, footsteps banged their way up the stairs to the flat.

A moment later Lestrade burst through the door, out of breath.

"The bullet?" Sherlock asked immediately, sitting up.

"Yeah…" Lestrade said as he looked at Kylie nervously, "Uh.. that's why I'm here. We uh… ran the bullet. You may want to sit down for this Kylie."

Kylie looked at him with concern.

_What in the hell was going on?_

"Why?" Kylie asked her heart beginning to race as she walked towards Lestrade.

"We ran the bullet through our database and had a hit in the US and Mexican database," Lestrade looked at her nervously once more.

"What was the match to?" Sherlock pushed.

Lestrade sighed before looking at Kylie once more, "Kylie, the bullet in the Mercury was one of the bullets that killed your mother and sister."

**Review?**


	35. Chapter 35

**A HUGE thanks to all of my AMAZING reviewers! You guys are the best! Seriously! I am so thankful that you guys read this, let alone take the time to write a quick note. Seriously, it makes my day!**

**Sorry, it's a short one again! I'll try to have another up tonight or tomorrow!**

"Kylie, it was one of the bullets that killed your mother and sister."

The words echoed through Kylie's head as she stood in the middle of the living room. Her body was completely numb in shock.

Her mother and sister's death?

"…What?" Kylie asked quietly, trying to take in the information, "You positive?"

"Yeah," Lestrade told her solemnly, "I made ballistics run it three times to be sure as well as make a visual match."

Kylie felt her knees give out in shock as she landed on the arm of the chair Sherlock was sitting in, staring at the floor in a shocked gaze.

"I don't understand," she said quietly, "Why on earth would he leave that? How in the hell did he get it anyway?"

"And what does it have to do with Mercury…?" Sherlock muttered, earning a glare from John for being completely insensitive.

Sherlock gave him a questioning look as John glared some more and shook his head silently, as if to silently coach him on how to deal with Kylie.

"Kylie, I hate to ask you this," Lestrade said as gently as he could, "But how exactly were they killed?"

She looked up at him, "You didn't already read the file?" 

"Half the file was blacked out."

She sighed and looked back down on the floor. Sherlock felt the protectiveness grow inside him once more as he watched the strong woman he knew turn into a small vulnerable girl once more.

He fought the urge to touch her. He had no idea why on earth he had impulse to want to comfort this woman, but he did. It couldn't be explained.

"They were murdered 18 years ago," Kylie said as she shut her eyes and ran a hand through her hair, "My mom… um… witnessed a murder. She saw a drug dealer murder a marine in cold blood when he walked in on a cartel meeting in central DC. I was six at the time, my sister was twelve. My father was overseas fighting and I happened to be a friend's house when she witnessed it. She picked me up immediately and took us both to the police station to report the crime."

She laughed for a moment as she looked up, "I remember talking to this nice lady in a short skirt who was cuffed at the station. Apparently I befriended all of the prostitutes they had just busted."

She smiled and looked down once more, trying to organize her thoughts, "My mom identified and testified against the man who pulled the trigger, but they never caught the rest of people who were there. Apparently, some of them were high up bureaucrats who the police couldn't touch."

"A few days after the trial, my mom took me to my friend's birthday party. I cried the whole way there. I didn't want to go. She was taking Kelly, my sister, horseback riding. I wanted to go with them. I had always idolized my big sister. I wanted to do everything she did, but my mom wouldn't let me go, as it was here and Kelly's 'date'."

She smiled once more, "When my Dad was away, my Mom always made a point to take Kelly and I on separate 'dates' so that we would have one on one time with us. Both of us, always wanted to go horseback riding."

Kylie paused for a moment, reflecting on the memory before taking a deep breath and continuing, "I went to the party, not willingly though. My Mom walked me to the door, kissed my face, wiped my tears from my tantrum and told me, 'I love you, bug. Have fun.' And she left."

She paused and ran a hand through her hair, "At about the time that we were doing presents, there was a knock on the door. It was NCIS. My uncle Mike was the lead officer, though I didn't even know him yet. I remember the girl's mom of who's party I was at, gently pulled me away from the party with tears running down her face. I was so confused. I just remember Uncle Mike taking me by the hand and leading me to the car."

Kylie laughed as she felt tears begin to fill her eyes, "I punched him and told him I wasn't allowed to go with strangers."

"He took me to the station and told me that Mom and Kelly had been killed. They had been shot just down the street from the ranch we went riding at by an unknown man. He suspected that that they had been killed in connection with her testimony."

She paused and wiped her eyes as she looked at the ground once more, "If I had been with them, I would have been killed. It would have been me. I didn't even tell her I loved her…" 

They sat in silence for a moment.

"My Dad received immediate discharge and returned home, and the rest is history," Kylie finished.

Sherlock didn't even realize that his hand was moving towards her back, until it was rubbing her back comfortingly. He stiffened and pulled his hand back down, seeing John smirking out of the corner of his eye.

_Dammit, he needed to get ahold of himself…_

"I don't understand though," Kylie continued, "They never caught the guy. Like Sherlock said though, what does this have to do with Mercury and the case?"

"I'm afraid I have an answer to that," Lestrade sighed as he sat down in a chair, "We were able to identify the rifle that fired the shot. It was fired by a Mercury 870 rifle."

"Mercury," Sherlock breathed as he sat straight up, his attention back on the case at hand before he leapt up once more and began pacing in front of the fire once more.

Kylie slid down into Sherlock's seat as she stared at the ground, trying to take in the information.

"The Mercury is a reference to the rifle," Sherlock said as he turned back to face Kylie, "You are the riddle."

Kylie's eyes connected with his for a moment.

"But why flaunt this in our face?" Sherlock asked as he looked at the photos.

"It was 18 years ago," Kylie stated, "It had nothing to do with Thomas, or Moriarty, so why?"

"Unless…" Sherlock said as his mind began racing, "OOH!" he exclaimed, clapping his hands together, "Ooh, of course! Of course, how did I not see this before! He started young, just like I did. That's why he said we weren't that different. Oh, it all makes sense!"

"Sherlock…" John said warningly.

Sherlock ignored him and wheeled around with a large smile covering his face as he looked at the three other people in the room.

"Don't you see?!"

The group was silent.

"Moriarty!" He exclaimed.

"Sherlock," John said warningly once more.

He ignored John, as he continued, "Moriarty! He stared his career killings young. He started with Carl Powers when he was fifteen. That was 20 years ago, he had already made a name for himself and was starting his career."

"What does this have to do with my Mom's death?" Kylie asked him.

Sherlock sighed as he grinned in disbelief, "Don't you see!"

"Sherlock…" John piped in once more, knowing exactly where this was going.

"Moriarty was the one who was behind your mother and sister's deaths!"

**Short, but needed! **

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	36. Chapter 36

**Wow… seriously, I am completely blow away at all of the support I have gotten from you guys. You guys are honestly the greatest. You have no idea how much I appreciate the time you guys take to read, and let alone leave your thoughts on my story. From the bottom of my heart, thank you!**

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"Moriarty was behind your mother and sister's deaths!"

Kylie just stared at Sherlock, her face completely void of emotion.

"Wait," Lestrade piped up, not able to hold himself back, "Why on earth would Moriarty be behind her mother and sister's death?"

"She put a drug dealer behind bars," Sherlock replied, "Cartels don't take a liking to that."

"So what? The cartels have their own pull. Why hire Moriarty?"

"A gun for hire," Sherlock told him simply, "The cartels are heavily monitored in the US. If one of their men had been sent to kill her, it would have been traced back to them easily, not to mention the other bureaucrats who were present at the murder." 

"But why Moriarty? John asked as Kylie brought her knees up to her chest as she continued staring at the floor.

"He was young, fresh faced," Sherlock said as he began pacing once more, "He was a teenager, trying to make a name for himself. He orchestrated the entire thing. He would take anything just to prove himself clever."

"Wow," Lestrade commented, looking at John, "That doesn't sound like anyone we know."

John smirked slightly as Sherlock glared at him.

"So why bring it up now?" John asked, "Why now, when he wanted us to back off?"

"Flaunt it at Kylie,"

"No," Sherlock responded, "he wants in her head and under her skin, just like he tried to get under mine."

"What's his goal though?" John asked, "Moriarty has no beef with Kylie. What's his agenda? Lord knows he never does anything with out one."

"With Thomas as his accomplice, this may be a reward… that or he is doing it to get to me as well…." Sherlock began before he was interrupted by Kylie slamming her fist down on the chair before getting up quickly and walking out of the flat and down the stairs.

The three men watched her leave in silence. Sherlock looked at the now closed door with confusion, while both John and Lestrade looked down in shame.

They heard the door slam shut to the flat downstairs.

Sherlock looked at John in confusion. He was holding his head in his hand in shame.

"Not good?"

John just pinched the bridge of his nose before he looked at Sherlock, "No, definitely not good"

"God, how could we have forgotten about it so easily?" Lestrade asked.

"She'd been dealing with it so well," John replied, "And we forget that we are digging up her whole past and then act like utter complete dicks."

"God, she hadn't really shown any sign of how bad it was bothering her," Lestrade said as he sat down.

"Yeah, well, when all of your demons come out of your closet at once, it has to get to you at some point.

Sherlock paused as he put together the pieces of the situation.

Kylie was… upset…?

He face his companions one last look before he walked out of 221B and down the stairs.

Lestrade looked up at John in complete confusion.

"Is he… going to… comfort her?" he asked in complete shock, "Since when does he do that?"

John glanced towards the door and gave him a slight smile, "Love does crazy things, Greg."

**& ^#*( )( )**

Sherlock opened the door to 221C and slowly looked around. Blood still covered the walls of the flat from the haunting murder. The scene of the crime was still intact as only the body had been removed. Sherlock's attention was drawn away from the scene of the crime when he heard soft sobs coming from down the hall.

He followed the noise down the hall, pausing outside of the bedroom where the sobs were the loudest. He slowly pushed open the door, and the sight that he saw, broke his heart.

She was curled up in her bed clutching her pillow as sobs wracked her body. She had cried in front of him in the last 72 hours, but he had never seen her lose it quite like this.

He slowly stepped into the room, unsure of what to do. He approached the bed and carefully sat down next to her.

Kylie felt his weight on the bed and quieted her sobs, slowly wiping her eyes and looking at him as she sat up.

Her eyes were blood shot and swollen, her face wet with tears as her eyes shone with more threatening to fall. She looked so… broken…

She just looked at him for a moment and shook her head.

"I cant be strong anymore, Sherlock," she told him, "Its just… its too much. Thomas, the bodies, my mom and sisters death, Moriarty… its too much."

Sherlock fought the urge to reach out and touch her as he watched her laugh bitterly shaking her head at herself, "Look at me Sherlock! I'm so utterly pitiful. I promised myself I would never be that girl who cried and hide in my room like a pitiful little girl, afraid of the big, bad world. I dragged myself into this. God! I should have seen Thomas coming a million miles away. Everyone shows signs of crazy, but Thomas was a whole lot more than crazy. I mean, he killed those women just to taunt me! Murdered just to get in my head! They didn't have to be killed. Those women… should have been me! My mom, my sister… it should have been me!"

Sherlock didn't even realize what he was doing until he saw his hands reach out and grab her face, bringing it to his before he kissed her.

Kylie felt her heart stop in her chest as she felt the feeling behind the kiss. It was gentle, yet frantic; passionate, yet careful. Kylie matched the kiss as she leaned closer to him, relishing the feeling of something solid to hold onto. Her world had been spinning, and just from this kiss and his arms wrapping around her, she felt it begin to slow and slowly tilt back onto its axis.

His hand softly tangled in her hair as she climbed into his lap, trying to desperately get closer to him.

He broke the kiss and pulled back, cupping her face, looking at her as his eyes softened.

"Never say that should have been you. Ever." His eyes searched hers as he spoke, "Moriarty murdered your family. Thomas murdered those people. It wasn't you to pull that trigger, nor took their lives. It is NOT your fault that they are dead, Kylie."

She gazed at him for a moment as his hands ran through her hair. His eyes softly searching hers, letting her know that his words were completely sincere.

She looked at him before she leaned forward once more and kissed him. Her hands tangled in his hair as she tried to convey her feelings and thankfulness for him. The kiss deepened as she tried to explore his mouth. Upon feeling her desperation, Sherlock pulled back and looked at her. Her pupils were dilated, breathing rate was elevated, and her pulse was racing.

"Kylie…"

"Sherlock, please. I just want to feel…" she began as she leaned in again before Sherlock gently pushed her away.

"Kylie, you are vulnerable…."

"I'm not a china doll. I know what I want."

Sherlock shifted out of her kiss, looking down and avoiding her eyes as he continued, "This isn't what you want. Since your rape, you feel the need to try to overcome what Thomas did to you…"

Sherlock trailed off as he felt Kylie's eyes on him.

"Sherlock?" Kylie asked quietly, running her broken and bandaged hand through his hair, trying to get him to look her in the eye, "Have you ever… been with someone?"

The fact that Sherlock was shifting awkwardly and refusing to look at her gave her all the answers she needed. The man was brilliant, inept at social relationships when he wanted to be, but for some reason, it never dawned on her that a man as handsome as him could be a virgin. The man kissed like a pro, leading her to think that without a doubt, the man had experience. Perhaps he was just an incredibly quick learner… he was a genius after all.

She saw a slight blush creeping up his neck, causing her to smile at him softly, feeling relief surging through her.

_There really was no rush… he wasn't going to leave her if she wasn't ready…_

She leaned down and kissed him tenderly once more before wrapping her arms around him, placing her head in the crook of his neck as she fought the emotion that was trying to take over her body once more.

"Thank you, Sherlock," she whispered in his ear.

He felt a tear hit his neck as he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her tighter to his chest as he leaned back in the bed, pulling the covers over them as they settled down to sleep. Kylie nuzzled herself into his side as her head lay on his chest. He turned and pressed his lips to her forehead as he rubbed her back, trying to lull her to sleep, still trying to figure out exactly why she had thanked him.

He felt her breathing begin to slow and shallow as she relaxed in his arms.

"Sherlock?" she asked sleepily, rubbing a hand up his chest.

"Hmm?"

"You are a damn good man, you know that?" she told him, snuggling closer to him, "One of the best I have ever met."

He ran a hand through her hair as he felt her slip into sleep.

"I'm not the hero you think I am, Ky," he whispered to her as he kissed her forehead once more, holding her tightly as she slept.

**&#() ()**

Sherlock walked into 221B the following morning, only to find Mycroft sitting in an armchair, fiddling with his phone. Sherlock paused to glare at his brother's presence in his home before looking around for any sign of John.

"About time you woke up Sherlock," Mycroft said without even looking up from his phone, "I was beginning to worry."

"Mycroft," Sherlock drawled at his brother as he crossed the room to sit in the chair opposite of him. "Why do I have the utmost pleasure of your presence this early in the morning?"

Mycroft gave him a slight smirk and a tilt of his head before stating, "Why, about your relationship with Miss Gibbs of course. You spent the night with her the last two nights."

"Spying on me still Mycroft? Who'd you pay off this time? Someone at the Yard?"

"I have my ways."

Sherlock scoffed at him.

The elder Holmes paused and stared at the younger for a moment.

"What's the nature of your relationship with Miss Gibbs?"

"Interrogating me now? That's low even for you, Mycroft."

"I'm inquiring, not interrogating," Mycroft told him with a smile, "That's much more unpleasant, I assure you."

"Inquiring?" Sherlock scoffed, raising a disbelieving eyebrow at his brother, "Stop caring Mycroft, it doesn't suit you."

"You care for the woman."

Sherlock just stared at his brother.

"And what makes you believe that?" Sherlock asked, "I wasn't aware you knew how to care."

"You've never spent the night with anyone. Well, unless it was a corpse."

"I still don't see how my business pertains to you."

"What can I say Sherlock, I worry about you."

"You worry about your career."

Mycroft stared at Sherlock. The two were locked in a staring contest.

"What do you feel towards Miss Gibbs?"

"I don't know Mycroft. Why don't you tell me what I am supposed to feel and do. You are ever-so good at it."

"Stop being short dear bother. She is good for you, I like the girl. But, with her history and the trouble she brings, I doubt your relationship will end well."

Sherlock laughed, "How did you figure that Mycroft? Have one of your flunkies create and analysis software? Enter the data and see the outcome?"

"Relationships are a lot like war Sherlock." Mycroft said smiling, "Lies, fighting, pain, suffering…. a glimpse of hope and happiness."

"I'm learning otherwise."

"Oh! So you are in a relationship?"

"I never said that."

Mycroft laughed at him, "Why brother, you're going soft. How quaint. Tell me, is it Kyleigha that showed you this, or John?"

"Unlike you Mycroft, I observe what happens around me and analyze it."

"Our family gift."

"No Mycroft, you calculate, you don't analyze. Those are two completely different deductions, that vary in the utmost fashion."

Mycroft raised an eyebrow at his little brother. "You have the mind of a scientist and philosopher Sherlock, you know that it is impossible to scientifically analyze humanity. The human mind and tendencies for action however…"

"The art of war." Sherlock said bored, "You have killing people and creating chaos in the world down to a science. Its so…. mundane."

"And running around London with a Doctor and an Anthropologist chasing your girlfriend's ex is exciting?"

"She's not my girlfriend. And yes, its much more interesting."

Mycroft surveyed his brother for a moment.

"She's a wonderful woman Sherlock, but she's dangerous."

"More dangerous than what I do on a daily basis? I think not."

"She'll give you many more enemies,"

"Good news for you. More people to join your little team."

"I still don't understand how you consider me an enemy."

"And you don't understand how I consider Kylie a friend."

"You don't have friends, nor ones that you snog."

"I have John, who I don't snog, and now Kylie."

"John's good for you."

"You said Kylie was good for me."

"John doesn't date psychopaths."

Sherlock scoffed, "You didn't meet his last girlfriend"

"John doesn't date psychopaths who happen to be Moriarty's right hand."

"A risk I'm willing to take."

The men fell into silence once more as they heard footsteps pounding up the stairs.

Kylie walked up in to 221B yawning as she walked up the stairs. She walked in the flat and opened her mouth to make a snarky remark to Sherlock about sleeping with her and leaving without saying goodbye, when she laid her eyes on the Holmes brothers seated in the living room having a staring contest, causing her to bite her tongue.

She stood there for about a minute watching the brother, neither of the men not move a muscle.

"Am I interrupting something?" she finally asked.

Neither of the men moved as Mycroft stated, "Ah, Kyleigha. I assumed you enjoyed your night with my brother?"

Kylie gave Mycroft a look before she glanced at Sherlock, still staring at his brother, before she crossed the room and perched herself on the arm of Sherlock's armchair.

"I believe that is none of you business." Kylie said simply.

"I would have to say otherwise. He is my brother, you know."

"The fact that you even know that we have a relationship of some kind, is more than enough for you to know," Kylie retorted, "You being his brother does not justify or pressure us to define anything to you."

Sherlock smiled. This is why he liked this woman. She could kick Mycroft's ass in a game of wits.

Mycroft gave her a painful smile before standing up and grabbed his umbrella.

"You two are too alike for your own good,"

And with that, Mycroft left the flat, leaving a bewildered Sherlock and Kylie behind.

**Little bit longer, I combined two chapters! **

**Anyhow, thoughts?  
**

**Review?**


	37. Chapter 37

**You guys are amazing! Seriously, a HUGE thanks to all of my amazing reviewers! You guys make my day and keep encouraging me to post! So thanks so much!**

**Short, sorry! But enjoy!**

John walked back into the flat from the store, hauling the bags up the stairs, only to find Sherlock and Kylie sitting on the couch, staring at the wall of photos they had made over the fireplace.

John paused and furrowed his eyebrows at the pair. Something had happened… Sherlock hadn't returned to the flat last night… they always were in 221B… always…

Not to mention the fact that they shifted slyly apart as John walked into the flat.

Something had definitely happened….

Kylie awkwardly turned her head as she felt John staring that the pair of them.

"Hey John," she said strangely.

John just kept staring.

"Do we have something on our faces?" Kylie asked, implying that he was staring at them.

John narrowed his eyes as he looked between the two of them.

"Did you two…?" he began to ask before Kylie began to glare at him as Sherlock turned to look at him as well.

"Never mind," John quickly backtracked before he walked into the kitchen and began unloading the bags.

Kylie and Sherlock turned back to the photos as John began making a bit of noise in the kitchen as he put his purchases away.

"Why bring this all up?" Kylie asked Sherlock quietly after a moment, "Why would Thomas try to draw us out, while Moriarty is telling us to back off? I don't get it."

"Its too neat," Sherlock said as he put his hands together in front of his face as he leaned back into the couch.

"Neat?" Kylie asked in blatant shock, "How is this neat?"

"It's a game. With Moriarty, its always a game. But the game is too easy. The answer is too obvious…"

Kylie looked at Sherlock as if he had lost his mind, before she turned and looked at John who had poked his head out of the kitchen, staring at Sherlock in confusion as well.

"Obvious?" Kylie asked, "How in the hell is it obvious?"

Sherlock turned to look at Kylie and John as if they were joking, causing John to sigh loudly.

"He's doing it again."

Sherlock frowned, "Doing what again?"

"Your face," John commented.

Sherlock looked at him strangely, "Why its my face?"

"No, you are doing 'the look' and making assumptions that we all know what is going on here," John told him.

"We all do know what is going on here."

"No, Kylie and I don't, which is why I find the 'the look' so annoying."

"Its obvious"

"No, its not," Kylie imputed, "So why don't you explain it?"

Sherlock gaped at them for a moment.

"Seriously?"

"Yes, seriously. Apparently we are both idiots," Kylie said sarcastically.

"There's something going on, something that we haven't figured out…." Sherlock said as he stared at the photos once more.

"That's what's so obvious that we missed?" John gaped, "We figure out that Thomas is a psychopath working for Moriarty. That Moriarty, was behind the death of Kylie's family, whom were killed with a Mercury rifle and now Thomas is killing people with clues based on that… what haven't we figured out?"

"No, what you missed is that Moriarty is not working alone."

"Yeah, with Thomas," Kylie said in astonishment, "Seriously, and we are oblivious?"

"NO!" Sherlock sighed, running a hand over his face, "Its too neat for Moriarty to just be working with Thomas. He's too smart, and this game isn't like him."

"Thomas is smart too. This could all definitely be him," Kylie pointed out, "He had me fooled for years." 

"That's because you were stupid enough to fall in love with him," Sherlock dismissed.

"Sherlock!" John chastised as Kylie glared at the ground in hurt.

"Love is a dangerous disadvantage that causes you to overlook simple things and miss that the man you are living with is a psychopathic mass murder," Sherlock said simply.

"Seriously, you don't have to be a complete dick," John told him as he walked into the living room.

"WHAT IF…!" Kylie started trying to control her hurt and anger with the situation, "What if this whole master plan, wasn't Moriarty?"

"You think its Thomas?" John asked.

"Yeah, I mean who says it has to be Moriarty?" Kylie asked, "It could definitely be Thomas who set this all up. Its been him with the fairy tale murders, all that Moriarty did is set up a meet."

"You think Thomas may be trying to usurp Moriarty?" John asked.

"I mean, I wouldn't put it past him. He essentially screwed over the CIA and they didn't find out until he was well out of their reach."

"Moriarty isn't as stupid as your government or you, he would have seen a take over from a mile away," Sherlock told her.

"Okay I was an idiot. I get that," Kylie said angrily, "Can we drop the fact that my ex-boyfriend is a mass murderer?"

"Why? It's a fact," Sherlock told her.

Kylie glared at him for a moment before standing up and storming out of the flat.

John sighed and put his head in his hands as he heard the door to the flat down stairs open, and then slam shut.

"Where is she going?" Sherlock asked sincerely, "We have work to do."

John sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose as Sherlock looked at the door in confusion.

"Sherlock," John said slowly, "You need to learn when to shut your bloody trap."

"Why? What'd I say?"

John just looked at Sherlock before shaking his head and getting up and walking into the kitchen, "I don't understand how you can tell an airplane pilot by their thumbs and yet you cant even see what is wrong with the woman you spent the night with."

Sherlock was all too familiar with the look that John was giving him.

"I've disappointed you."

"No Sherlock," John told him, "You've disappointed and hurt her."

**&^ *()( )_ _!**

Kylie slammed the door to her flat shut, as she stormed past the crime scene, not caring that she was breaking the law at this current moment.

She was hurt and angry. The man that she felt herself slowly opening up to and falling for, just gave her a lecture on how love was stupid and made her irrationally an idiot.

The same damn man who held her in comfort, when she was scared out of her mind; the same one who was so protective of her… who spent the night holding her and calming her…

…the same one who just flat out told her that love was stupid, and that she was an idiot for staying with Thomas.

What in the hell did this all mean? That he was never going to fall in love with her? That he didn't want to be in a relationship with her? That he didn't want her at all?

She let out a scream of frustration with the irritating man upstairs as she whipped off her sweatshirt and began looking for running clothes.

She was pissed at him, yet her mind was on the kiss and how tender he had been with her in that bedroom.

… That man was amazing. His mind. His body. His spirit….

GOD! What was wrong with her?

She was mad at him! Not lusting after him! 

She whipped off her shirt and threw open her closet, looking for something to wear as she cured the man upstairs for forcing her to open herself up to him, only to hear how he didn't believe in love.

_Nothing is every going to happen Kylie. You need to let it go. Try not to feel the pain… run it all off._

She grabbed a shirt off a hanger, standing there in her bra as she cursed the fact that she wanted to cry. She was trying to find the bottom of the shirt when someone grabbed her from behind, putting a cloth over her mouth.

She fought desperately against the attacker, but they had both of her arms pinned, forcing the cloth over her mouth.

He was too strong…

"Hello Kales," a deep familiar voice breathed in her ear, sending a shiver of shock and fright down her spine as her blood ran cold, "You miss me beautiful?"

Then everything went black….

**Stereotypical… I know… But things will change. Just bare with me… please?  
**

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	38. Chapter 38

**You guys are seriously amazing! Thanks so much for all of your amazing reviews! Serioulsy, your feedback and encouragement is AMAZING!**

**Heres another short one!**

"This can't be the whole thing, John," Sherlock muttered as he sat in his armchair, staring at the photos, "What are we missing?"

John sighed in frustration and looked at the clock.

"Sherlock, perhaps you should be more worried about your girlfriend…"

"She's not my girlfriend."

"Fine, the woman who you want to be your girlfriend…"

No comment.

_Interesting…_

"You know, the one who stormed out of here a couple of hours ago, and still hasn't returned?"

Sherlock just continued to look at the pictures.

"She'll be back. She always comes back," he said monotonously.

John sighed and slammed the book he was holding in frustration.

"Dammit Sherlock! You fancy the damn girl. She is obviously beginning to have feelings for you as well, which is probably the best damn thing for the both of you since you have both been dancing around each other since day one. She's the best thing that has happened to you, and yet, you still decide to purposely piss her off."

"Its not my fault she's being _sensitive_."

"Sensitive?" John gaped, "Seriously? The woman had been sexually assaulted, the man she used to date is out murdering people, not to mention the fact that she just found out that Moriarty is behind her mother and sister's deaths. Then when you and her start something that has no definition because you are too much of a coward to ask her to be your damn girlfriend, you go off on the fact that love is stupid, and relationships make you an idiot! The woman is damn vulnerable and confused just about as much as you are! And you call her storming out of here a tad bit upset, sensitive? She has a damn right to be!"

"That's why she's upset?" Sherlock asked, genuinely surprised.

John's head nearly exploded.

"If you want to keep her Sherlock, you need to stop being a dick. Since you've met her, you've been happy; genuinely happy. Even when you don't have a case. She makes you calmer, its almost as if you enjoy life more…"

"Seriously?" Sherlock scoffed in disbelief, "You think its all because of how a woman makes me _feel_? I don't feel John."

"Yeah," John said shaking his head, "Yeah you do. You don't think you show it, but you do. You care a lot more than most."

"John, do shut up. Your idiotic ranting is annoying."

John just looked at him in amazement, "Fine," he said throwing his hands up in frustration, "When you lose her for good because you chased her off, you'll regret it. Face it, you need her."

"I don't need anyone." 

"Sherlock, you have been solving cases with her faster than you ever had. Between the two of you, you could stop half the crime in London." 

"That's because I observe, John. I did it before, I do it still." 

John just stared at him, "You are being an unreasonable dick. I hope you know that. Now call her up, and find her, before someone else steals her away before you have the chance to ball up and make her your girlfriend."

"Someone already has," A voice from the doorway said.

Sherlock and John whipped around to find none other than James Moriarty leaning against the doorframe of 221B, wearing his typical Westwood suit and a smug grin on his face. A slight bruising still remained from Kylie's punch he took a few days earlier.

"You're little girlfriend is adorable by the way. Fought the whole way home…."

Sherlock slowly stood up, his fists clenched as his blood ran cold; anger surging through him as he slowly began walking towards him.

"Ooh… how adorable. You care about the darling girl," Moriarty said pouting at him, "I thought I was the only one you cared about."

"Where is she?" Sherlock asked in a soft, yet dangerous voice as he got closer and closer to Moriarty.

Moriarty smirked more at him, "Like I'll tell you. Takes all the fun out of it. And I thought you were clever, Sherlock."

Sherlock glowered as he felt his blood slowly boiling as he approached him, John slowly standing as well.

"What have you done with her you bastard?" John asked angrily.

Moriarty turned and gasped at John while clapping his hands together, "Oh! How precious!" he said in a sarcastically high voice, "The pet is protective of his master. Its simply precious!"

Sherlock continued to walk towards him slowly, "I swear if you hurt a single hair on her head…"

"You'll what?" Moriarty asked excitedly, "Hurt me? Kill me? …Torture me?" Moriarty smirked, "We both know you won't do that."

Sherlock was now standing face to face with the man, staring at him menacingly.

"No," Moriarty said in a soft voice as he surveyed Sherlock, "You're ordinary. You're ordinary just like all the other goldfish in the sea. You're on the side of the angels. You're in love… you care.

Sherlock took a step forward, towering over Moriarty.

"You make the mistake of believing that love is a tangible thing. It doesn't exist," He told him quietly, "Not to people like us. And I may be on the side of the angels , but don't think for a moment, that I am one of them."

"Is that supposed to be a threat?"

"It means I keep my promises."

Moriarty smiled at him and began chuckling.

"Oh Sherlock, look what love has done to you."

"I just told you. Its not love, it doesn't exist."

"Oh, but it is."

"What do you want?"

Moriarty paused once more, smiling at him.

"To solve the problem," he told him quietly, "Our problem; the final problem. It's going to start very soon, Sherlock. The fall… But don't be scared. Falling is just like flying, except there's just a more permanent destination. Maybe after, you can have your precious little girlfriend back… maybe not though… I need to give my pet his prize…."

"This is between us," Sherlock told him, "Not her. Leave her out of this."

"Oh, trust me Sherlock, she's more involved than you think."

Moriarty smiled before he took in the expressions of both Sherlock and John as they stared at him. He laughed loudly, "Look at you! You have John, your bother, the Yard, and all the King's horses, and yet, you'll never find her. You have an infamous army; very weak and ill equipped in comparison to me… and you still think that you can beat me? Oh, that's adorable."

Sherlock just stared him down.

"I thought that was Thomas," Sherlock stated simply before continuing, "I've never liked riddles."

Moriarty leaned forward, inches away from Sherlock's face, "Learn to," he told him menacingly, "Because I owe you a fall Sherlock. I. Owe. You." 

The two men stared at each other for a moment before he walked out of the flat without another word.

Sherlock stood staring, not moving a muscle, despite the fact that Moriarty was no longer there.

"Sherlock?" John asked quietly.

He just stayed rooted to the spot, trying to comprehend what was going on and what was raging through his body.

"He has her, John," Sherlock told him after a moment, his voice quivering with a combination of fear and anger.

John stiffened. He hadn't heard Sherlock's voice shake like that since Baskerville; the only time when Sherlock Holmes had admitted he was afraid.

Sherlock turned and looked at him. His face was pale… but he was trying hard to hide it. John saw it blatantly in his eyes; gear, anger at Moriarty, contempt for Thomas…

John didn't know what to do. Truthfully, he had never comforted Sherlock before. The truth was, the man never truly showed emotion until he met Kylie.

He did the only thing he could; he walked over and put a comforting hand on his friend's shoulder.

"I know, Sherlock. I know." 

**^#*( &(# *)( **

Kylie's head was spinning.

It was dark.

Why was everything so dark?

She barely felt her head lolling side to side, unable to stop it all.

Everything was so fuzzy…

She tried to bring her hand up to her head in an attempt to steady the spinning, only to find that when she did, something dug into her wrists, stopping her arm from moving.

_What the…._

"Don't try to struggle gorgeous," a voice said, "it will only make it worse."

_That voice… I know that voice…._

…_..Oh God…_

Kylie's eyes shot open. She was in a dimly lit and damp room. The walls were made from iron, most of it rusted and filthy. It had probably been abandoned for years. She was seated in a chair in the center of the room in just her bra and yoga pants. Her hands had been cuffed and her feet were bound to chains that where hooked to the floor. She was tied to the chain with rope, while her mouth had been gagged with the handkerchief that was currently tied around her head.

Across from her sat the worst thing of all… Thomas.

Kylie tried to yell for help as terror shot through her once more. Her yells were useless with the gag though as she struggled with her bonds to try to get away. The fight was futile though. She was trapped.

Thomas just laughed at her.

"Trust me Kales," the young handsome man told her with a smile, "No one, and I mean no one is ever going to find you here." He walked over to her and bent down, so that he was eye level with her, "not even your precious new boyfriend," he told her as he reached out and brushed some hair out of her face.

Under his touch, a horrible fear trembled through her. That entire night came flashing back to her once more, making her want to vomit, scream, and cower all in the same moment.

Thomas smiled and leaned towards her, whispering in her ear, "I'm going to have fun with you," he taunted, "And trust me beautiful, you're going to like it. Even if it kills you."

**Short again.. I know… **

**Review?**


	39. Chapter 39

**I know I say it every time, but you guys are seriously amazing. I am completely blow away that people would even read this, let alone support it! For real, I am ever so grateful for the time you guys take to read this, let alone review it. **

**Quick point… I hate rehashing of episodes… so please forgive parts of this… they were unfortunately necessary to make everything work the way I wanted it to. There are subtle changes… **

**Enjoy!**

Kylie groaned as she hit the ground once more, floored by Thomas's fist running into her for the thousandth time.

_Fight back… you have to keep fighting back. _

_You've been fighting back for hours now._

"Come on Kales," Thomas said as he cracked his knuckles and walked around her, "Get up. It turns me on when you struggle."

Kylie opened her eyes and glared at the floor, catching sight of her own blood on the floor.

She still had no idea why on earth he had drugged her and then let her off her chains. She was fighting the haziness and dizziness of whatever he had injected her with while trying to get past him and out the door to freedom. He had just taken her slight slowness as a way to play with her just as a cat playing and batting around a mouse before it devoured it.

She got up, wavering slightly as she did as she tried to focus and will the room to stop spinning.

"Let me go you son of a bitch," she told him.

Her whole body hurt… he had beaten every single bit of her over the last hour and half.

She was exhausted and running out of steam and hope.

Thomas's green eyes gleamed at her as a wicked smile covered his face, "You have to fight for it Kales. Lord knows how hot you are when you are pissed."

Kylie made a move to get past him, dodging him briefly as her broken hand made contact with his ribcage. She fought a yelp as her hand cracked slightly and pain shot through her before Thomas's fist hit her jaw, whipping her head back, before it also made contact with her ribcage, knocking the wind out of her once more.

She fell to the floor, curling herself in a ball, trying to protect her body from Thomas's blows before they stopped suddenly.

She coughed and just wished this to end. She was so close to the door… but she didn't know if she could go on any longer.

She groaned and rolled over on the floor hearing the door creek open and shut as footsteps walked into the room.

"What are you doing?" a familiar voice asked, "Ralph did the job, now its your turn to do your part."

Kylie rolled over to see Moriarty looking at Kylie with slight confusion.

"Its that time already?" Thomas asked.

"Yeah."

"Time flies when you are having fun," Thomas said.

"Hurry and tie the girl back up. We need to go," Moriarty said as he looked Kylie over from afar.

"Don't fucking touch me," Kylie said as she tried to pull herself up.

Moriarty just raised an eyebrow at her, "Stubborn this one?"

"You should see her when she gets real hot and bothered," Thomas grinned as he practically undressed her with his eyes.

"Piss off," Kylie said as she got up and tried to stay standing.

Moriarty sighed with boredom as Thomas went and picked up something, tossing it in his hand lightly as he wandered back over to her.

"The two of you are going to let me go…" Kylie began before she stumbled, the drugs taking over her system once more.

"Yeah, not going to happen Kales," Thomas told her before the pipe in his hand met the side of her skull.

And everything went black once more.

**& *( ()) (_#**

Sherlock sat on the couch in silence, staring at the floor unmovingly as he had since Moriarty had left nearly six hours ago. John was at a loss; he had no idea of what to do. He had never seen his friend like this… ever.

"Sherlock we need to call Lestrade," John said trying for the four thousandth time, trying to will his friend to take action.

Silence.

John sighed. Kylie had been gone twelve hours now. It was the dead of night. Sherlock was catatonic. This was not good… not good at all.

He had to do something.

John got up and grabbed his phone.

"No."

John turned to look at Sherlock questioningly.

"Don't," Sherlock told him in an odd tone.

"Sherlock, we NEED to call Lestrade!"

"He mentioned the Yard. Something is going to happen with the Yard. They are compromised," Sherlock told him as he stared at the floor.

John looked at the ceiling and threw his phone down in anger. He was going to regret not calling Lestrade.

"What did he mean?" Sherlock muttered.

Sirens began to sound as emergency vehicles seemed to be driving down a couple of streets away.

_Must be a fire…_

"What are you on about?" John asked as he walked over to peer out the window, looking for the fire.

"He said I had an army… Why would he say that?" Sherlock asked himself more than John.

"Uh… Sherlock…" John said as he saw nearly six police cars round the corner and pull up out in front of their flat.

Sherlock didn't answer as fear began surging through John while he watched Lestrade, Anderson, Donovan, and nearly six other officers Sherlock had harassed over the years get out of the cars.

"Sherlock…"

The doorbell rang and there was a pounding on the door.

"Scotland Yard! Open up."

"Jesus," John said as he moved to go down the stairs to open the door. Mrs. Hudson had beaten him to it as the Yard poured into the flat, Donovan in the lead.

"Where's the freak?" Donavan asked.

"What in the bloody hell was that?" John asked Lestrade as they all walked up into the flat, "Don't you usually just come up to tell us about a case, not break our bloody door down as you run over Mrs. Hudson!"

Lestrade looked extremely apprehensive as he looked John in the eye for the first time since his arrival in the flat.

"Kylie's dead," he told him in a quiet voice.

Sherlock broke his staring contest with the floor as he looked up at Lestrade.

"What?" John asked quietly in shock.

"Her remains were found in an alley around half past two this afternoon. Her body was burnt to a crisp."

"How do you know it was her though?" John asked, "Kylie was the one who made the ID's"

"Sex, age, height, race, and dental records all match," Lestrade said quietly before he turned to Sherlock, a pained look on his face. "Sherlock, where were you between one and three this afternoon?"

"Seriously?" John asked, "You think he killed Kylie? Are you out of your mind?"

"John, stay out of this." Lestrade said putting a hand up to him.

"Answer the question freak," Donovan spat as Anderson began to search the flat.

"Oi, you can't do that!" John yelled at Anderson as he noticed him searching the flat.

"We have a warrant John," Lestrade said before turning back to Sherlock, "Where were you?"

"He's been with me all day!" John shouted at Lestrade.

"All day?" Donovan asked.

"Yes, well I went to the store right after he and Kylie had a row, because he was being an annoying dick, but other than that, he has not left my side all day," John told him confidently.

"What time was that?" Lestrade asked hopefully.

"I don't know." John said thinking back.

Oh shit….

"Grocery receipt from today time stamped at 2:30," Anderson said bringing the scrap of paper out to Lestrade. Lestrade took it, inspecting it closely before closing his eyes with pain. He sighed, his body slouched.

"Sherlock, we have eye-witness accounts of you killing her and burning her body." Lestrade said slowly.

"Eyewitness?!" John nearly yelled, "Who?"

Lestrade looked at John solemnly, "You know I cant tell you John."

"You know he didn't do this," John argued.

"I got blood," Anderson called from the kitchen as he pulled out a bloody knife from under the sink. He pulled it out and inspected it. "It's the same size and shape as the murder weapon."

"A knife?!" John gaped, "That was not there! HE DIDN'T DO THIS!"

Donovan grabbed her cuffs and walked towards Sherlock.

"Stand up freak," she said.

Sherlock slowly stood up as John began shouting remarks at Lestrade. Donovan slapped on the cuffs.

"Sherlock Holmes, You are under arrest for the murder of Kyleigha Gibbs," said Lestrade.

"Is that necessary? He's not even resisting!" John shouted. "This is absurd! You know he would never hurt her! All of you know that!"

Another officer lead Sherlock out of the flat as Lestrade turned to John.

"Don't try to interfere or I should arrest you too," he said warningly as he turned and followed Sherlock and the officer out.

John looked at Donovan as she just raised an eyebrow at him.

"You done?" he asked her angrily.

"Well, I said it?" Donovan said as she walked towards him, "First time we met."

"Don't bother."

"Solving crimes won't be enough. One day he'll cross the line. Now ask yourself, what sort of man would pretend to love a woman, and then kill her? We all liked Kylie. I warned her too. Told her exactly what I told you. Yet what did she do? Run off with the psychopath; the same one who has been leading Lestrade on for years. God knows how many of those murders he was actually behind."

Before John could open his mouth to retort, a short stout man with glasses walked into the flat.

"Donovan," he said.

"Yes, sir?" Donovan asked standing up taller.

Must the chief superintendent, John thought to himself.

The man looked about the flat for a moment, taking it all in, "Looks like a bit of a weirdo if you ask me." the chief said. "Aren't they now? These vigilante types?"

John glared at the man. Who the HELL was he to judge his friend just by the state of their flat?

"What you lookin at?" the man asked.

**&^ *#( )(**

Sherlock was shoved up against a police car when he heard a man groan in pain behind him before John was shoved up against the police car in hand cuffs the next moment.

"Joining me?" Sherlock asked.

"Yeah," John said slightly out of breath, "Its apparently against the rules to punch the chief superintendent."

Sherlock paused looking inside the car to see a police radio buzz on the dash board before saying, "A bit awkward, this."

John just nodded, "Well, no one to bail us."

Just then the radio beeped again, "All units to code seven, all units to code seven," it said.

"What?" John asked not understanding.

Sherlock then grabbed the radio with the hand they had left uncuffed in order to search him properly, and pressed a button causing to radios all around him to wail at an extremely high frequency. Everyone covered his or her ears as Sherlock grabbed the gun of an officer and cuffed himself to John. Sherlock pointed the gun at the officers around him as he back up towards the street, pulling John with him.

"Ladies and gentlemen, will you all get on the ground please?" Sherlock yelled to the officers.

John was in shock, not knowing what to do…and also not really wanting to get pulled into an actual crime.

The officers just looked at him. Sherlock fired a round into the air.

"NOW, Would be good!" he yelled.

"Do as he says!" Lestrade yelled to the other officers.

The officers all began to get on their knees.

"Just so you know, the gun was his idea!" John said, hoping that that would keep him out of this gag. "I'm just…ah…you know.."

"My hostage," Sherlock said as he turned the gun on John.

"Oh, yes." John whispered, "That works….that works! So what do we do now?"

"Do what Moriarty wants, become a fugitive."

John nodded.

"Come on, run." Sherlock said and the two of them took off down the street.

Sherlock took off running and John matched his pace. They were having trouble running with the cuffs on though.

"Take my hand," Sherlock said grabbing John's hand as they ran down the street together.

"Now people will definitely talk," John said as they ran down an alleyway.

They zigzagged through the streets of London until they weren't able to hear sirens any longer. They paused and leaned up against a wall, attempting to catch their breath.

John looked at him after a moment.

"Sherlock…I'm so…I'm sorry to hear about Kylie," he said trying to get it out without becoming emotional himself. He considered Kylie on of his best friends…and now she was dead and his other best friend was being framed for her murder.

"She's not dead," Sherlock said.

John looked at him.

"Moriarty wouldn't be playing this game if she was actually dead. If that was actually her body, he wouldn't have burned it. It's a clue."

"A clue to find her?" John asked trying to understand.

"Find her, before its too late."

**$(#&$)#(!**

Lestrade walked back into Scotland Yard shaking his head. This had to be one of the worst nights. First, a man comes in claiming he witnessed a murder. The man had led them to a body, which they ID as his best forensic anthropologist and friend as the victim. The man had then gave a sketch artist an extremely similar picture of Sherlock and said that the victim was yelling that she loved him. All of the fingers pointed at Sherlock. He didn't want to believe it. He knew Sherlock. He had never seen him so in love, despite the fact he wouldn't admit it… Hell, Lestrade was even the one who won the pool! He got 400 pounds out of those two, even though his guess was for 3 months, he was still the closest… The Yard thought those two would have gotten together a lot quicker than they did.

"Detective Inspector?"

The voice brought him out of his thoughts. Lestrade looked up to find the witness was talking to him.

"Did you get him? Did you get the guy?" He asked.

Lestrade looked him over. He was a young man, about 30 with brown hair and piercing green eyes wearing a baseball cap. He was fit, very fit, that's what surprised Lestrade, why didn't her try to help the woman?

"No, he got away." Lestrade said shaking the thought from his mind.

The man became scared. "Do you think he'll come after me?"

"No, he won't. I promise. He didn't see you right? So how can he know?"

"I don't know," the man said becoming hysterical.

"Go have yourself a pint," Lestrade said leading him towards the door, "You've had a rough day."

_The last thing he needed was a hysterical man to calm down…_

"O-o-okay," the man said walking out of the Yard.

"We'll call you if we need anything else," Lestrade said before shutting the door behind the man.

The man stood there for a moment before he casually put his hands in his pockets as he smiled to himself.

_That had worked perfectly._

He took off the baseball cap and threw it off to the side running his hands through his hair. He returned his hands to his pockets as he began to whistle and trot down the street to find his partner waiting.

"How'd it go?" Moriarty asked as he leaned up against the black Sudan.

"Positively wonderful," Thomas said grinning at him.

"Good," Moriarty said grinning back, "More fun than you thought wasn't it?"

Thomas smiled as he rounded the car to get in, "Time of my life," he said, his eyes glinting with evil. "Let's go play with the girl."

**Reichenbach anyone?**

**Review?**


	40. Chapter 40

**You guys are simply amazing! Seriously, I appreciate it so much! You have no idea! **

**Here's the next chapter! Get ready for the ride guys!**

**Enjoy!**

Her head hurt.

It hurt a lot.

She groaned, regretting it instantly as the vibrations echoed through her head, exacerbating her pain even more.

She blinked and flinched at the light as she tried to open her eyes and take in the scene around her.

She was back in the chair, chained and tied to the chair in the middle of the deserted and rusty warehouse room she was locked in. Kylie looked around, fighting pain and dizziness as she saw no trace of Thomas nor Moriarty. The room was dark, but moonlight was seeping through another part of the wall where a hole lay in the aluminum wall, rusted and deteriorating away. The hole wasn't large enough for someone to crawl through, but it was enough for her to tell that the moonlight had moved…. She had been passed out for hours.

Thomas and Moriarty knocked her out before they had left, she assumed. If they had been gone for hours by the movement of the moon, they were bound to be back at any time.

_This was her chance…_

Other than the small rusted holes scattered throughout, there were no windows… no other doors, other than the one single dead bolted vault like door.

Everything was still fuzzy. Her head was still spinning, but she shoved it aside as she desperately looked for a way out.

_What'd she have around her?_

_Metal chair, chains, shackles…. Dammit._

_I need out of these cuffs…._

A moment of clarity came to her as she began feeling around the waist band of her yoga pants, praying she had left at least one bobbi pin hooked on the waistband of her pants. She had gotten into the habit of putting spare bobbi pins on the waistband of her athletic clothes in high school when she was playing sports. Her hair had a bad habit of falling out while she worked out and competed, disposing of her bobbi pins somewhere along the way.

Her hand found the cool metal and a smile of relief crossed her face as she worked the bobbi pin off her waistband, inserting it into the handcuff lock and beginning to work on the lock.

Thank God her father had taught her how to pick a lock when she was younger… though he had quickly regretted it with the trouble she caused him in her teenage years…

Click.

The lock opened and Kylie quickly pulled her hands around to the front and began working on the other lock. When that too opened, she untied herself from the chair and desperately began trying to pick the shackles on her ankles.

"Shit," she cursed to herself as the pin broke in the lock. The locks were larger and much more rusted.

_This was going to be a battle…_

She tossed the useless pin aside as she rooted through her hair for another pin. Finding one, she began working once more on the lock. Her ankles and wrists were bleeding and bruised from the restraints and her prior struggles. She felt her face swelling from her earlier beating, but she had to push through. She couldn't focus on that. She had to get out of here.

The lock wasn't opening.

Panic began to surge through her. She couldn't let these damn shackles keep her here.

Kylie looked wildly around the room. Maybe she could break the chains? There were a few links that were rusted and showing signs of weakening from her struggle with them. She began pulling at them wildly, at a loss of what to do. The shackles dug into her ankles.

She stopped. This wasn't helping. She needed to be rational and objective.

She needed more power and leverage.

Her eyes skimmed the room, pausing on the table and chair.

_That could do it…._

Kylie stood up from her chair and placed one of the feet on a weak link and began to wedge it in the link. Once the wedge was positioned, she applied force to the chair in one direction and yanked her ankle in the other.

SNAP

The chain broke free.

_Almost there…._

Just as she was wedging the chair into the other chain, she heard voices and footsteps echoing down the hallway.

Panic surged through her as she looked down at the chain still attached to her leg.

Thomas and Moriarty were back and she had no where to run or hide…

***& (*#) **

"He left us a clue to find her, John. I know he did. That's how Moriarty works!" Sherlock said as he paced Bart's morgue.

"Well, pretty much everything that Moriarty says is a riddle," John commented as he lowered the blinds of the window, looking out for police.

_This was one of the first places Lestrade would look for them…_

"What did he mean by the 'final problem'?" John asked as he turned and looked at his friend.

"He plans to destroy me," Sherlock told him casually as he stopped in his tracks and stared at the lab bench in thought, "That's why he hired the witness, and framed me for Kylie's murder. I'm now a crazy….." Sherlock trailed off awkwardly.

John looked at him, raising an eyebrow at him as he did.

"Lover?" John suggested, "Boyfriend? Arrogant git who is too afraid to admit how he feels about a woman to ask her to be his girlfriend?"

Sherlock shot John a murderous glare.

"He's trying to trash my name, my reputation," Sherlock continued, trying to ignore the prior statement, "The only thing he has to do now is…. Oh!"

Sherlock froze as revelation struck him.

_He understood… he had understood all along…_

"Sherlock?" John asked questioningly.

"There's something I need to do," Sherlock told him as he grabbed his coat once more.

"What?" John asked, "Can I help?"

"No," Sherlock said curtly before he walked out of the lab, leaving John behind.

***& #(** ()**

Molly was closing up the lab for the night, turning off the lights. It was her first week back since her bout with Moriarty. She was feeling much better and everyone had been so supportive with her return. Kylie had come by for a while and talked to Molly. Once they had begun talking, the two of them had talked for quite a long time. Molly did actually like her, even though she was 'dating' the man she was in love with. Sure, she was jealous of Kylie, but in the end, it wasn't up to her who Sherlock cared for.

Molly was startled when she saw a tall dark figure in the little light that poured through the door.

"Molly," the figure said.

"Sherlock?" Molly asked relaxing a little bit.

Sherlock looked sad. It was startling, the man was always so strong, so together, but right now, he just looked broken.

"Molly, I need you," he said quietly. "You've always been there for me. I've always been able to count on you. I've always trusted you."

"Are you okay?" Molly asked.

"No, I'm not okay," he said turning to face her.

"Tell me what's wrong."

"Molly," Sherlock said as he walked towards her, "I think I'm going to die."

"What do you need?"

"I wasn't everything that you think I am. Not everything that I think I am."

Sherlock stopped right in front of her, "Would you still want to help me?"

"What do you need?"

"You."

***&# ()*) ()_**

Mycroft Holmes walked into the Diogenes club and into his private room only to find John Watson seated in his favorite armchair.

"They think Sherlock murdered Kylie," John said shortly upon seeing Mycroft enter.

Mycroft sighed and closed the door to the room as to not disturb any of the other members.

"We know Kylie's not actually dead, but I would have thought that you would have at least bothered to help us out, God knows you meddle with everything else in Sherlock's life." John ranted at him, unable to contain his anger.

"John," Mycroft said seating himself in the armchair opposite of him, "There's nothing I can do."

John laughed. "Of course there's something you can do Mycroft! You are the British government!"

Mycroft shook his head, "The eye-witness account. I can't disprove that. Moriarty knows that. John, I'm afraid my hands are tied."

John just stared the older man down. "So, you are just going to let your little brother fall for the rap of a murder that he did not commit?"

"Moriarty's a genius," Mycroft said sadly, "People will believe this lie because it's wrapped up in a neat little package of truth. Most people think he's a psychopath, and solving murders is what makes him tick. The logical next step is for him to commit one himself."

"You actually believe that your brother is capable of murder?"

"I didn't say that John. I know him. The only way he would kill someone is before they harmed someone he cared about or himself. I'm saying that's how others will see it."

"So you are just going to sit by idly and watch while Moriarty destroys him and Kylie becomes a psychopath's sex slave?"

Mycroft looked down, ashamed.

John laughed in disbelief and got up, shaking his head at the man.

"Tell them I'm sorry would you?" Mycroft asked as John stormed out of the building fuming at the older man.

**#$)#(#**

Sherlock sat in the morgue by himself, tossing a squash ball at the wall and catching it repeatedly.

John stormed into the morgue suddenly.

"I got your message!" he said walking in.

"The clue. I figured out the clue." Sherlock said, as he remained seated on the floor. "When he said 'You have an infamous army, very weak and ill-equipped' that's the clue."

John gave Sherlock a look, "Okay… What's it mean though?"

"It's a famous quote from Duke of Wellington during the battle of waterloo." Sherlock said standing up.

"She's in Waterloo?" John asked gaping.

"Yes."

"Where?"

"I would assume its somewhere to do with the battle. Somewhere to do with the Duke."

"Its just a field now!"

Sherlock looked up suddenly, "The Lion's mount!"

John gave him a questioning look.

"Its rumored to be hollowed out on this inside, meant to be a shelter for the royal family during World War 1."

"You think she's being kept there?"

"Certain."

"Lets go then," John, said as he began to turn.

"No," Sherlock said grabbing on to him, "I have something I need to do. You go to Lestrade, You were my hostage, he won't arrest you. Convince him she's alive and go get her."

John looked him in the eye, wracking his mind for another way, "We'll get her back in one piece Sherlock, I promise."

Sherlock nodded before, John hurried out of the morgue to the Yard. As John left, Sherlock pulled out his phone and sent a text to an all-to-familiar number.

You have something I want back.

Come out and play

Bart's roof

-SH

***& (* )( _)**

"Trust me, she's a wild one in the sack. You wont be disappointed." Thomas told Moriarty as they walked into the room where Kylie was kept, only to find the chair empty and the room deserted.

"I don't like getting my hands… What the…?" Moriarty began to ask before a metal chair connected with his head, neck, and shoulder, throwing him to the ground in pain.

Kylie dropped the chair and tried to shove her way out the door in the confusion, but Thomas was too quick. He grabbed her and punched her right in the eye. Kylie was thrown to the ground by the blow and tried to quickly to react to counter Thomas's next attack, but the drugs had slowed her reaction time. Thomas's fists connected once more with her jaw and ribs. Kylie rolled over in pain. Thomas was kneeling over her.

"Thought you could escape?" he asked, an evil smirk on her face.

Moriarty sighed and got up, kinking his neck, trying to calm his anger.

Kylie tried to punch Thomas back, but he caught her fist in his hands and pinned it above her head, rendering her defenseless.

"I'll let you have the first turn," Thomas said to Jim as he grinned at Kylie, "I like to watch, plus there's nothing better than angry sex"

Kylie's eyes widened as she realized their next intention. She began to fight against Thomas more and more. Thomas punched her in the face and ribs once more. Kylie groaned in pain.

"The less you fight the less you'll get hurt." Thomas said.

Kylie glared at him and spit in his face. "Go to hell you son of a bitch."

Moriarty stood over her now as Thomas held her down. She tried to kick him, but instead of a punch, she received a needle to the neck. Drugs entered her system once more. She was still conscious, but she couldn't move. Her muscles were weak and relaxed. She couldn't fight back.

She saw Moriarty bend down next to her, looking at her intently as he held a handkerchief to the cut on his forehead.

"I'm not going to rape you love," he told her in an eerily calm voice, "My beef is with Sherlock Holmes. To make him hurt, torture him from the inside out. Prove that I am brighter than him." Moriarty stopped and shook his head for a moment, "He did seem like a worthy opponent, but unless he pulls out a miracle, I'm in the home stretch."

Kylie stopped struggling for a moment.

He wasn't going to rape her?

"But…" Moriarty said in a sing-song voice, "The easiest way to rip the heart and soul out of poor little Sherlock Holmes, is for him to know the woman he cares for is being corrupted in the worst possible way…"

Moriarty smiled at her as fear shot through her once more.

She had to fight the drugs, she had to get out of here…

The drugs were surging through her system. Her muscles refused to contract, no matter how much her brain was screaming at her to fight.

She couldn't fight back….

Moriarty stood up, looking at Thomas, "Merry Christmas," he told him, causing a wicked smile to cover his face.

Thomas looked back at her, running a hand down her body, causing her insides to squirm.

"Oh, I've missed this Kales…"

Thomas leaned forward before a phone beeped, drawing his attention back towards Moriarty.

Moriarty took out his phone and smiled to himself briefly as he read the text message.

"Let's get this show on the road, shall we?" Moriarty said as he grabbed his coat, "Have fun you two!"

And with that, Moriarty left her all alone with Thomas, who was reaching over to grab a pipe that was laying on the floor.

The last thing that crossed Kylie's mind before Thomas hit her with it, causing her to black out in pain, was a single name…

Sherlock…

…**.. Review? :D**


	41. Chapter 41

**I honestly have the most AMAZING readers! Seriously, you guys blow me away. I never thought anyone would read this the first time around, let alone still read it when I rewrite it. Thank you so SO Much for all of the amazing reviews and support!**

**Here's the last chapter of this one! It changed….**

**Enjoy!**

Lestrade sat at his desk, running a hand over his face in despair.

This was a nightmare.

His forensic anthropologist was dead.

A witness put his friend and consulting detective as the murder, sending a cascade of hate and trouble for him from his superiors and co-workers.

That was all before Sherlock had taken John "hostage" and escaped from police custody…

It was too the point where he didn't know whether to grieve, yell, or punch a hole through a wall.

Voices and yelling near the entrance of the Yard drew his attention back to reality. He pulled his head out of his hands just in time to see John Watson practically sprinting into the office.

"Lestrade! Kylie's alive!" John said before Dimmock practically tackled him to the floor right in front of Lestrade's office door.

"How stupid do you have to bloody be?" Dimmock asked as he pressed him into the floor, pulling out his cuffs.

"Wait!" Lestrade said as he got up out of his seat, "Did you just say Kylie is alive?"

"MMPH MF," Johns voice said as he was muffled into the floor.

"Let him up," Lestrade told Dimmock as Donovan rushed over.

Dimmock gave him a strange look, before obeying Lestrade's request.

John sat up, groaning as he rubbed his neck.

"We figured it out. Kylie is still alive," John told him.

"We?" Donovan gaped, "As in Sherlock? The most wanted man in London at the current moment." 

John sent her a glare as he stood up.

"He was framed," John told her.

"Still didn't mean he needed to commit a federal offense and drag you with him… which you should be in cuffs for," Donovan shot at her boss.

"I was a hostage," John told her.

Donovan scoffed.

"The dental records matched, John," Lestrade told him, "It was her."

"Records can be changed," John told him, "I promise you. Moriarty is behind this, and trying to frame Sherlock for something he didn't do."

Lestrade just looked at him for a moment, as he noticed the entire Yard had gone quiet, looking at Lestrade for what to do.

"I swear to God John if this is just some trick you and Sherlock are trying to pull over on me…"

"Lestrade, do you really think I would make up the fact that Kylie was still alive?" John urged.

"The freak tricked you too, this is a bloody waste of our time," Donovan told Lestrade, "He killed her! We have a witness!"

Johns phone beeped as he looked down at his phone. It was a message from Mycroft.

John's heart dropped, that's how they had pulled this whole thing off.

"Was this your witness?" John asked thrusting the phone at Donovan.

She looked at the photo for a moment, completely taken a back, "Where the hell did you get that?" she asked shocked.

"That is a picture from Kylie's Ex-boyfriend's CIA profile. Mycroft just sent it. Thomas Moore, Moriarty's right hand man was your so-called witness."

Donovan took the phone from John and stared at it in silent shock.

"So let me get this straight, Sherlock was framed by the crazy ex and his arch-nemesis?" Lestrade asked as he ran a hand over his face, trying to get the facts straight.

"But the knife?" Donovan asked.

"Moriarty was in our flat a few hours before you guys busted down our door. He must have planted it then."

Donovan just stared at John.

"So can we go get Kylie before those psychopaths make her wish she wasn't alive?"

"Where?" Lestrade asked.

"Sir!" Donovan objected.

"The facts are conclusive Donovan," Lestrade shot at her before turning back to John, "Where, John."

"Lion's mount in Waterloo," John told him.

"You heard him," Lestrade said as he grabbed his coat and his weapon, "Let's go."

Donovan gaped as she looked back down at the phone in her hand, only to have John snatch it away from her, giving her a dark look as he followed Lestrade and a majority of the Yard out to the vehicles, praying that they would get there in time.

**&*^*( #)( ()**

The head car skidded to a halt as Scotland Yard too the Waterloo battlefield by storm. The cars surrounded the Lion mount as John and Lestrade were the first ones out, officers jumped every which way out of the cars behind them, all trying to find a way into the statue.

John ran up to the statue. There was no apparent entrance to the hidden chamber. He looked around wildly; looking for a way in. as Lestrade ran around the entire length of the statue.

"There's nothing John!" Lestrade yelled in distress, "You sure she's here?"

"Positive," John muttered, wracking his brain.

_Why wasn't Sherlock here?_

_There was a way in … there had to be… THINK!_

He looked around, seeing officers looking around at a loss of what to do. Then that's when he spotted it; a car hidden by trees down the side of the hill.

_That had to be the entrance!_

"Lestrade!" John said pointing over to the car.

Lestrade took one look at where John was pointing before yelling, "Everyone move!"

Lestrade led the way as he ran back towards the police car, hopping back in with John and tore down the hill towards the other vehicle.

When they reached the bottom, they found nothing but a hatch that had been uncovered by grass.

Lestrade tore the hatch lid off to reveal a tunnel with steep stairs, descending into the dark.

He turned to John as the other officers donned their bulletproof jackets and prepared to enter.

"You stay here."

"Sorry, but you've got to be kidding me!" John said arguing with him.

"You have no training."

"Lestrade, I fought in the army, know how to use a weapon, and I'm a doctor. God knows what they did to her."

John and Lestrade had a staring contest for half a second before Lestrade handed him his back-up weapon.

"Stay behind me."

John checked the weapon before nodding.

The tactical team led Lestrade, John, and the rest of the Yard down the darkened tunnel.

After a couple of minutes, the path began to level out, creeping upwards as they began to go back towards the surface of the battle field. Another steep staircase came into view, as they climbed a second flight of stairs, going up towards the surface.

_They had to be close…_

The staircase led into a large flat room, about the size of the Lion Mount. The tactical team stopped in slight confusion as John followed the Yard into the space.

He looked around, they were in the base of the statue, but it hardly looked like a bunker. It looked more like the hollowed out inside of a chocolate Easter bunny. But that wasn't the strange part…

No, that was the entire space being covered in plastic lining with a rusted out, square storage container. The container had a vault like door, to ensure that whatever was in there, stayed in there. The only escape were the small rusted out holes, that a dim lamp was shining into.

"Torture 101," Lestrade whispered, "Create an environment in which the captive thinks is different than the actual."

"They manipulated her environment," Dimmock muttered in shock behind John.

The tactical team looked at Lestrade, before he nodded. The leader moved towards the door, setting down his weapon and looking at his other team member, readying for fire at any opposition coming from behind that door. He nodded before turning the vast lock on the door, and heaving it open. The team moved in, yelling clear for the others to follow.

John found himself holding his breath before he ran into the room, only to find no one in the room but Kylie, bloodied, beaten, and bruised, lying in the floor in just her bra, a tactical member having removed his jacket to cover her. He spotted her yoga pants and undergarment thrown across the room as he sprinted over to help.

"She was naked doc," the man told him, his voice shaking.

John looked up at him darkly as he began checking his friend's vitals, praying that she was still alive. She looked like hell. She had been beaten to a pulp. Her face was nearly pure black and blue, her eye swollen shut with inflammation. Her abdomen was bruised and jagged. He knew she had a few broken ribs, but only God knew what other internal damage and bleeding she might have.

"Oh, God" Lestrade said from behind him.

"She's alive," he announced looking her over, checking her injuries, weighing her odds in his head. She could pull through… he just hoped she had a desire to live after what he could only assume those psychopaths had done to her.

"We need to get her to a hospital now," he told the paramedics who had followed them. "Let's get her back to London."

"Sir, we have to take her to the nearest…"

"No," John said adamantly, "We're taking her to Bart's"

**&#(* ())_(# **

Sherlock made his way up to the roof, opening the door to hear music playing. He looked straight ahead before he turned and saw Moriarty sitting on the roof holding his phone up as a jukebox.

_Stayin' alive._

_Well now, I get low and I get high_

_And if I can't get either I really try._

_Got the wings of heaven on my shoes_

_I'm a dancin' man and I just can't lose._

_You know it's all right, it's O.K._

_I'll live to see another day._

"Well," Moriarty said as Sherlock walked towards him, "Here we are at last. You and me, Sherlock. And our problem, the final problem. Staying alive!"

Moriarty shook his head as Sherlock reached him, "So boring isn't it?" Moriarty shut his phone in disgust. "It's just staying…" He put his head into his hands in frustration.

"All my life, I've been searching for distractions and you, Sherlock. You, were the best distraction I had, and now I don't even have you. Because I've beaten you Sherlock. And you know what? In the end it was easy. All I had to do was get my hands on the love of your life, and you became ordinary. Now I've got to go back to playing with the ordinary people. It turns out your ordinary, just like all of them!"

Moriarty put his head in hands once more, and then sat up rubbing a hand over his face, "Oh well."

Moriarty then stood up and began to circle Sherlock, "Did you begin to question your friends? See if they actually believed in you? Your brother didn't. Thought you murdered the poor girl. Good thing too, I had a great time with your girlfriend," He told him, knowing it would send Sherlock over the edge, "She is quite a handful in the sack…. oh wait, you wouldn't know."

Sherlock lost it and grabbed Moriarty by the coat, dangling him over the edge of the roof, his eyes dangerous.

"You're insane," Sherlock whispered dangerously

"You're just getting that now?" Moriarty asked.

Sherlock shook him, threatening to shove him over the edge.

"What do you want?" Sherlock asked.

"You're going to jump," Moriarty said simply as he looked over the edge, smiling back at him, "Glad you picked a tall building."

"Of course, end your whole story. Man kills his girlfriend and kills himself in grief," Sherlock said realizing his plan.

"Not to mention take away the love of your life and ruin your reputation in the process of killing you all together."

Sherlock laughed, "I'm not going to jump."

Moriarty just stared at him, "How about I give you a little extra incentive. You're friends will die if you don't."

Sherlock's eyes widened.

"John?"

"All of them."

"Lestrade?"

"All of them."

"Mrs. Hudson?"

"All of them."

"Kylie?"

"Well, were going to play with her longer, but yes, eventually we will kill her."

Sherlock just stared at him.

"4 bullets, 4 gunmen, 4 victims. There's no stopping them now."

Sherlock pulled him up and Moriarty whispered in his ear, "Unless my people see you jump."

Sherlock gazed over the edge of the building.

"You can have me arrested, you can torture me, you can do anything you like with me, but nothing is going to prevent them from pulling the trigger. You're only 3 friends in the world are going to die and the love of your life will be tortured until her dying day, unless…."

"I kill myself, completing your story." Sherlock said never taking his eyes off the ground below him.

"You got to admit, that's sexier."

"Then I die in disgrace, useless…"

"Of course, that's the point of this. That and I break your heart into a thousand little pieces and sprinkle them all over my ice cream Sunday of victory."

Moriarty glanced over the edge as well, looking at the crowd that had accumulated.

"Ah," he said, "You got and audience now."

He leaned back, "Well, off you pop."

Sherlock stepped up on the ledge of the building looking down below him.

"I told you how this would end," Moriarty said from behind him, "Your death is the only thing that's going to call off the killers. I'm certainly not going to do it."

Sherlock looked down at him.

"Will you give me one moment, please? One moment of privacy?"

"Of course."

Moriarty walked away while Sherlock looked around him. Then what Moriarty had said hit him.

Sherlock began laughing. Upon hearing the laugh, Moriarty stopped and turned to face him.

"WHAT? What is it?" he yelled angrily.

Sherlock turned around grinning at him.

"What did I miss?"

Sherlock hopped off the ledge and onto the roof. He waltzed over to Moriarty and began to circle him.

"You're not going to do it?" Sherlock questioned as he walked over, "So, the killers can be called off then? There's a code, or a word, or a number. I don't have to die, if I've got you!"

"Oh!" Moriarty exclaimed, "You think you can do that? You think you can make the order?"

"Yes."

"Sherlock, your big brother and all the King's men couldn't make me do a thing I didn't want to."

"Yes, but I'm not my brother remember?" Sherlock said as he stepped closer to Moriarty to tower over him, "I am you, prepared to do anything, prepared to burn, prepared to do what ordinary people wont do. You want me to shake hands with you in hell? I shall not disappoint you."

Moriarty's eyes searched Sherlock for a moment before a look of realization came over him.

"I see," he said smiling at him, "you're not ordinary. No, you're me. You're me! Thank you, Sherlock Holmes."

Moriarty extended his hand for Sherlock to shake, "Thank you," he said tears beginning to roll down his cheeks. Sherlock grasped his hand and shook it.

"Thank you," Moriarty said once more. "Bless you. As long as I'm alive you can save your friends. You got a way out. My boss won't let Kylie out of his grasp, but with me you can get her safe and sound."

Moriarty stared at him for a moment as Sherlock frowned.

_His boss…?_

"Well, good luck with that." Moriarty whispered to him.

Before Sherlock could react, let alone stop him, Moriarty pulled out a gun and inserted it in his mouth and pulled the trigger. He collapsed on the ground, dead. Blood trickled out and over the roof from the hole in his head from the large caliber bullet.

Sherlock looked at his body, horrified.

His options had run out.

Kylie.

John.

Mrs. Hudson.

Lestrade.

_Kylie…_

He had been fighting this uncontrolled feeling of fear since the moment he knew Moriarty had her. It was new. He had this protectiveness for her that he couldn't explain. He had been in denial for months now, but he could no longer deny that the thought of the auburn haired woman next to him, let alone touching him, kissing him, holding him… even her laughing stirred a fluttery, giddy feeling inside of him.

…he cared… John was right… he cared for her.

Sherlock looked around trying to steady his breathing. He had to solve this. He had to end it. There was another way… there had to be… One that wouldn't hurt her… Hurt John…

He saw an ambulance pull into Bart's as he stepped up onto the ledge, knowing he no longer had a choice. He looked over at the loading bay and watched as the paramedics unloaded an auburn haired woman from the back and saw John get out of the back also. Sherlock pulled out his phone, sending a short text, before dialing John's number and held it to his ear.

He watched as John looked down at his pocket and answered his phone.

"Sherlock, we got her! We just arrived at Bart's"

"John, I need you to walk across the street"

"What? Sherlock did you hear me? We have Kylie! She needs surgery, but I think she's going to be okay!"

"John! I need you to do this!"

"Okay!"

Sherlock watched John cross the street and walk directly across from where he was.

"Stop there!"

John stopped where he was.

"Look up, I'm on the roof."

John looked up at him.

"I can't come down so we'll have to do this here."

"Oh God. What's going on?"

"An apology. It's true. I was behind Kylie's kidnapping. I'm the one who did it."

"Shut up," John said, "Why are you saying this? I know you didn't do it."

"I did it," Sherlock said his voice cracking with emotion.

"No, no you didn't."

"I want you to tell Lestrade, I want you to tell Mrs. Hudson, in fact tell anyone who will listen to you. I want you tell Kylie…tell her…. I'm sorry."

"Sherlock, stop this! You love her. You won't admit it, but I know you do. You would never hurt her. You found her."

"No one could be that clever without knowing where she was."

"You could."

Sherlock laughed. John moved to walk towards the hospital.

"No! Stay exactly where you are! Don't move!"

John walked back to where he was, "Alright"

Sherlock reached an arm out towards John.

"Keep your eyes fixed on me! Please, will you do this for me?"

"Do what?"

"This phone call, its my note. It's what people do don't they? Leave a note?"

John realized what Sherlock was referring to and a wave of emotion hit him like a bus.

"Leave a note when?"

"Goodbye John."

"No…Don't…"

Sherlock looked at John for a moment. Then he slowly brought the phone down and typed a text. After pressing send, he looked at John once more. He was still standing in the same spot. Sherlock threw the phone aside, took a deep breath and fell forward over the edge.

John watched in horror as his best friend plummeted towards the earth. He ran in a daze over to where he landed behind a truck. He was knocked to the ground by a biker. He groaned on the ground before getting up and running over to the crowd that had now gathered around the bloody heap that was his best friend.

"No…"

A couple of Doctors held him back from getting any closer to the body.

"He's my friend. He's my friend."

John was able to get ahold of Sherlock's wrist and feel no trace of a pulse.

"No…."

John went limp as emotions wrecked his body. He sat on the cement as the Doctors took Sherlock's body and placed it on a gurney, wheeling him into the hospital.

**&$*($)*$**

Kylie's mind slowly turned back on.

It was dark.

Her eyes were closed.

Beeping and whirling and voices began to become louder as sleep began to fade.

_What the hell happened?_

Kylie slowly opened her eyes to find herself in a hospital room. She frowned… she was out of hell?

She looked around her, only to find John in the chair next to her staring off into space. One of his hands was on the bed next to her as the other hand was placed on his face deep in thought.

Kylie urged her body to move, wincing as it took nearly all her strength to place a hand on his. John nearly jumped out of his skin as he turned to look at her.

"Hey!" he said grabbing her hand, "How are you feeling?"

"Like I've been hit by a bus," Kylie laughed as she looked at him. "How long have I been out?"

"About 12 hours," John said.

"How'd I get out?"

"We found you," John told her.

Kylie shut her eyes and tried to sit up, only to have John nearly jump up and get her to relax, "No, you had surgery to reduce the internal bleeding. Those bastards beat the shit out of you, didn't they?"

"You have no idea," she commented darkly as she winced, "you have my eternal thanks for getting me out of that hell hole."

Kylie looked down for a moment, trying to gather her thoughts, before she asked the question she'd been dreading to ask, "John, did they…. did he…?"

John looked down, that was all Kylie needed to know.

_She had been raped… again…_

She nodded silently, trying to accept the reality before she laughed, feeling tears rolling down her face at the violation, "Well, at least I was knocked out, or I just don't remember this time."

They were silent for a moment before Kylie asked in a quiet voice as she wiped her tears, "Where's Sherlock?"

_God, she wanted him here…._

John inhaled sharply as tears began to flow once more. He couldn't look Kyle in the eye, not about this.

Kylie looked at John, frightened at his reaction to her question.

"John, where's Sherlock?"

John began sobbing on her bed.

"John?"

John composed himself slightly, "Kylie, he's…. he's…he's gone."

Kylie stared at him for a moment.

_No…. he couldn't be…._

"No, he's not," she said in disbelief.

_He couldn't be gone._

"I saw him," John said, "I saw him jump. He jumped off the roof Kylie. I saw his body. I took his pulse."

Tears began running down Kylie's cheeks at a much more rapid pace.

_Sherlock was dead… the man she had been falling for. That great, wonderful man… dead._

"I didn't even get to say goodbye." Kylie said as the impact oh his death took full effect, "I was falling for him John, and I didn't even get to tell him that."

"I know Kylie, and he knew. He'd never admit it, but I am certain he felt the same."

Kylie scooted over slightly, as she pulled her friend into her bed, so they could hold each other, trying to bear the pain of the loss of their great friend.

**&^#*( *()# ( **

Kylie sat at the airport trying to ignore the stares that the people around her were giving her due to her extremely bruised and beaten face.

She couldn't handle it, not after John had told her the entire story. She had to leave. She couldn't be in that flat without the memory of Thomas, the memory of Sherlock.

Sherlock

Kylie had gotten herself released from the hospital the moment John and Lestrade had left her alone. Despite her release and the fact that she was flying, was against the advice of her doctor, she had to leave. She had stopped by Baker Street to change and grab a few of her belongings before she had headed to the airport and paid cash for the first flight out of the country.

She was running… She was running like a pitiful little girl at a time when her friends needed support and to be together the most, but she couldn't help it.

The man she had felt herself falling hard and fast for was gone. Gone, just like her mom. Just like her sister. Gone.

She had had an open invitation for a teaching job and research position in Argentina, heading a project identifying mass grave victims from the 1970 military crack down. Running back across the globe seemed like the best thing possible right now. She would email Lestrade for leave time when she got there, but until then, no one could know where she was going… she didn't want to be stopped.

She was running away. Running away from all of her problems. She couldn't take it. She hated herself. She couldn't even go to Sherlock's grave, couldn't even go to the funeral. She knew John needed her. He was a mess. But she couldn't bear it. She could barely get in the door to Baker Street. She couldn't be idol… she had to run…

Kylie wiped tears out of her eyes as they poured down her face and took out her phone.

Sherlock was dead.

Thomas had violated her once more.

She wanted to call her Dad, for him to tell her it would be all right… but she knew she couldn't do that. He couldn't know.

She shut her eyes and looked down at her phone for the first time since she had walked out of 221B yelling at Sherlock.

… _the last words she would ever speak to him… _

She saw that she had about 15 missed calls and messages from John and Lestrade, even a few from Dimmock.

_They obviously had figured out she was gone…_

_No turning back Kylie…_

She quickly deleted them, wracked with her own guilt for not even listening to her friend's worried voices. She was leaving when they needed her most…

She paused when she noticed a text Icon on her phone was glowing with a red 1 next to it.

She gasped as she saw the notification.

**1 unread message: Sherlock Holmes**

The message was time stamped right before she knew she had been checked into the hospital.

Her hands shook as her finger hovered over the text for a moment, hesitating before she finally pressed it, opening up the message, and reading the last thing Sherlock Holmes would ever say to her.

_I cared. I always did. _

_I'm sorry._

_-SH_

Kylie broke down right there in the airport as every wall she had been desperately trying to hold up, keeping her together came shattering down with that one single message.

**Okay, so not the happiest of endings… but I hope you guys can see how this will change! **

**Like I said before, this is the final chapter of this story, but never fear! I'll be posting the sequel soon! It will be a Study in Bones. I'll post another chapter on this story when I post it, telling you guys. It may be a few days… I'm completely rewriting the beginning of the next story, as some of you can probably already tell, this is where I am implementing a lot of changes… so get ready for the feelings ride… hahaha**

**Please let me know what you thought! I adore feedback, or if you have any questions, PM me!**


	42. Chapter 42

Hey guys

the new story should be up shortly! I just posted it! So please, go check it out if you have a chance! Like I said before, its called A study in Bones! Please let me know what you think! Its in a completely new direction!


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